Piano Keys And Heart Strings
by BrutieBoots
Summary: Izabela Varian is part of a proud, ancient family of full vampires by birth. Yet with her prejudices instilled over humans and lesser vampires, she finds herself drawn to the human Emylee Rusking, and even worse, one of Claude Sterling's gang.
1. Chapter One

_**Chapter One**_

Izabela Varian slumped back in her coffin, the lid peeled open as her dark emerald orbs were focused on the television across from her, the opening sequence of an English series playing as the words _Doctor Who _appearing on the screen. She propped her elbow up onto the rim of the glossy ebony sarcophagus before resting her head in her hand, threading her fingers through her pin-straight, well-layered raven hair.

Her eyes darted towards the window as the sky was now charcoal black with highlights of royal blue, the sun vanished beyond the horizon of Hipsterville. Her lips pursed together into a frown at the sight of the foreign city, a cocktail of new smells bombarding over her, making her nose wrinkle in detest. She hated this new place; she desired nothing more than to return to England, or even Romania, anywhere but here. She knew why their family had moved to this place, wishing to integrate themselves into the thriving vampire community, to find Izabela a genetically appropriate mate, to allow her younger sister to grow up amongst those of her own kind.

"Well, I am bored." She spat, switching off the television and climbing out of the wooden box.

Her legs were encased in jet black skin-tight jeans that were sprinkled in rips whilst her torso was slipped into a similarly coloured shirt with safety pins and chains decorated over it and a grey handprint printed onto the chest. She stalked about her room that was tucked away in the tower emerging from their Victorian mansion.

Suddenly, a new fragrance exploded over her, suffocating her senses and sending her head into vertigo. She sniffed the air, scrambling towards the window as curiosity clawed at the back of her throat, her nerves vibrating with excitement over this intoxicating aroma. As she leant over the window ledge, her eyes spotted a pair of figures approaching their abode, chatting animatedly to one another.

One was a male, towering over his comrade by over a foot with an untameable mop of dark chocolate locks falling about his shoulders. His legs were compressed into skinny jeans and a loose-fitting dark shirt with the logo of a metal band printed on the chest, the short sleeves exposing the tattoos littered over every section of skin on his arms. His strong jaw was coated in thick stubble as his fair visage was sprinkled in piercings.

The other was female, standing at an average height, perhaps a tad shorter than Izabela with a curvaceous figure that was hugged by a v-neck raven shirt and a pair of white-wash jean shorts; her feet slipped into a pair of worn-out ballet flats. Her hair framed her fair heart-shaped face in hazardously cut layers and side-swept bangs, the Scene-styled mop of hair dyed bright scarlet red with shades of dark fuchsia emerged from her roots. Her ears were aligned with multiple piercings, including studs lining every crevice. A black stud was pierced above her lips, forming a Monroe piercing as a similar stud was threaded through her eyebrow and a silver ring hugged her left nostril, making her attractive face shimmer in the lamp light. Izabela mused of the pair, they resembled one another greatly, yet appeared too close in age to be father and daughter, meaning they could only be siblings.

Suddenly, as the pair reached the front door and her brother tapped his finger over the doorbell, the girl's sparkling dark auburn eyes darted up to where Izabela sat, her eyebrows arching up at her inquisitively. Izabela jumped back from the window, clasping her heart in fright before scurrying out of the room, practically flying down the stairs at incredible speed.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, the butler had already opened the door, his skeletal figure matching the male's in height but not in width. His silver locks were pulled back neatly out of his gaunt, elfin face that was dotted in folds and wrinkles especially around his narrowed ashen grey eyes.

"And who might you be?" He enquired in a sharp voice, eyeing them curiously as their delectable blood flooded through his senses, his expression twisting with hunger.

"I am Emylee Rusking and this is my older brother Kameron," The girl piped, gesturing to herself then her brother. "We thought it might be nice to welcome the new family to Hipsterville."

"It is very kind of you," Izabela intercepted before the butler could respond, combing her fingers through her hair as she appeared at the door. "I am Izabela Varian and this is Edgar."

"Well, welcome." Kameron said with a shrug of his shoulders, earning himself a murderous glare from his younger sister.

"I am afraid my parents are not home," Izabela continued, well-aware that her parents were out visiting a vampiric family who had stood alongside their own for centuries. "But, my younger sister is here if you would like to meet her."

"Sure." Emylee smiled.

"Well then, Edgar, would you please fetch Violeta?" She said before lowering her tone, making it only audible to Edgar's heightened vampiric hearing. "We will _not _feed on our neighbours, Edgar, remember that. If those around the newly arrived family begin to die, suspicion will arise and _you _will be accountable for it."

"Yes, Miss Varian." He complied before turning sharply on his heel and disappearing into the chambers of the household in search of her sister.

Izabela watched him suspiciously as he left, well-aware that Edgar gathered the family's primary food source as he lacked a moral compass. With a sigh of defeat, she turned back to the pair, a smile breaking out across her pale lips as they appeared unfazed by what had gone on.

"So do you live nearby?" She asked.

"Not too far, maybe a ten minute walk, if you follow the straight road you will eventually end up in the clubbing district and find us," Emylee chimed as Kameron nodded in agreement. "We thought it was fit to greet the new family though because we rarely have whole families move out here."

"And school starts next week, so we thought you could ask Emy any questions you had." Her brother added, struggling to stuff his hands into the miniature pockets of his tight jeans.

"Unfortunately, my sister and I are homeschooled," Izabela replied, lying with such fluidity that it was practically second nature to her. "My parents thought it would be easier than shifting from the English to the American schooling system."

"I knew I recognised an English accent there!" Emylee beamed triumphantly as Izabela nodded. "What time does your homeschooling end as I would still be happy to show you around, it is quite a big city and you do _not _want to get lost."

Izabela hesitates momentarily, aware of how much her parents would disapprove of such behaviour. They despised the inferior, half-vampire, turned vampires, and especially _humans_, the cattle they fed on. Yet despite her parents lingering in the back of her mind, Izabela felt her head bob into an excited nod.

"Thank you, I would really like that," She replied. "I usually finish around six."

"Why so late?"

"I generally sleep in until ten whilst the rest of you get up at seven or eight, so the later finishing hour sort of makes up for that" Izabela said with a victorious grin, her lie immediately accepted by the pair.

"You are so lucky," Emylee replied with a melodic chuckle. "I _detest _getting up so early; my mind barely functions before ten in the morning."

"I wonder what is taking Violeta so long," Izabela mused, her smile dropping as she pursed her lips together in concentration, glancing over her shoulder before returning her inquisitive gaze to the pair. "Do you two have any pets? My sister has a terribly irrational phobia of dogs and cats."

Izabela resisted the urge to laugh at the irony of her statement as the situation was quite the opposite, domestic and wild animals were terrified of the little Violeta Varian. She seemed to have a sick fascination with attacking and drinking from animals as she was not permitted to hunt on her own. Her parents did not approve of this habit in England or Romania and they would most certainly be furious if she began terrorising the animals of Hipsterville.

"We have a cat," Emylee stated, interrupting Izabela's train of thought, making her figure tense up with worry. "But, Meeko will not go out or anything, he is a house cat. So your sister should have nothing to worry about, most animals are kept inside here anyway because of the busy roads and nightlife."

"That is a relief, I would hate to have to explain to someone why my sister is freaking out over their pet or attempting to battle it out of the garden." She replied with a small smile.

"I do _not _freak out," A young, high-pitched English accent brushed over the trio as Violeta's figure bounded towards them. "I am just a bit impartial to domestic animals."

Violeta stood shorter than both Emylee and Izabela, despite her ivory Mary Jane platforms increasing her height, as she emerged from the darkness to stand alongside her sister. Her full, rose-coloured glossy lips were pulled into a small smile as her large hazel eyes with highlights of gold stared up at the humans with a look of innocence. Her dark chocolate hair was tied up in bundles of lustrous curls whilst a few straight strands fell free to frame her adorable face, her thick front fringe falling just below her curved eyebrows. In her hair sat a small bow of a pale rose colour with a white lace trim, sitting on an ivory head band that was hidden within her dark locks.

Her dainty, ballerina figure was dressed in a Lolita style, an ivory blouse with short, puffed out sleeves sat underneath her dress with little a bow sitting on the end of each sleeve, matching the one styled into her hair in colour. The blouse bore a Peter Pan collar with the buttons done the front all done up to cover her fair flesh. Above this she wore a bell-shaped jumper skirt with a strapped top, both bearing a tea rose pink colour with an ivory lace finish and just above the hem of her skirt sat a pattern of dark magenta roses and ivory tea cups. The skirt ended barely an inch above her knee which was encased in a pair of over-knee cotton socks of an ivory colour, decorated in dark ruby coloured roses.

"I am Violeta Varian," Violeta spoke in a harmonic voice before wiggling her dainty, straight nose and allowing her smile to grow. "It is nice to meet you two."

Izabela watched as the Rusking siblings greeted the petite Violeta, blinded by her adorable appearance, no doubt trying desperately to suppress the 'aw' that was building up in their throats at her visage. It was almost frightening to watch how Violeta worked, maintaining an adorable appearance of innocence to draw anyone in despite their intentions. She was bizarrely dangerous for such a small, dainty girl, dark and demented despite her aura of pure innocence.

"I am Emylee and this is Kameron," Emylee grinned at Violeta, unable to resist returning the young girl's beam. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen," She chimed. "It is lovely to meet you two, I should return to my room though, finish my work before our parents return."

Violeta nodded at the siblings before bouncing back into the shadows, scrambling up the stairs to her room.

"Your sister is adorable." Emylee exclaimed as Izabela nodded in agreement, letting out a small laugh before speaking.

"So I have heard, but you do not have to live with her," She grinned. "Well, thank you for coming to welcome us, maybe next time my parents will be home."

"You're welcome, we had better get going," Emylee replied, noticing her brother becoming increasingly agitated. "Do you want to exchange numbers to set up a time to show you around?"

"Of course," Izabela dug into the pocket of her jeans, retrieving her phone as Emylee followed suit.

Once the numbers were exchanged, Kameron let out a grunt of relief, bidding Izabela a short farewell before turning on his heel to stalk away. Emylee rolled her dark eyes in disapproval, slowly walking after him as she bid Izabela farewell.

"Ignore him, the imbecile would rather sit in his room and watch sitcoms than have _actual _human contact," She explained as Izabela stifled a heartless laugh at the notion of her being _human_, trying not to take the misinformed insinuation as an insult. "I will text you tomorrow or something, there are some great clubs near me to unwind over, I will make sure to show you them."


	2. Chapter Two

_**Chapter Two**_

Emylee tugged on an ivory tee with a design of webbing and keys printed on it, tugging down the hem over the Japanese blossom tattoo that rested along her lower back, just above the rim of her hazardously torn skin-tight jeans that moulded to her slender legs perfectly, with vines extending from the flower towards her wide hips. She glanced at herself in the mirror, her dark brown eyes lined in thick charcoal and smoky eye shadow whilst her lips were coated in a thin layer of tinged scarlet gloss. Her Monroe mole piercing sat just above her lip, matching the stud through her eyebrow along with the many industrials bars, studs, and tapers running through the dips and curves of her ears.

She pulled the lower section of her bright scarlet shoulder-length hair back, tying it securely in place with a raven band whilst allowing the top layers which held shades of dark fuchsia to flutter about her fair heart-shaped face, framing it perfectly. With one last look at herself, she slipped her feet into a pair of canvas shoes and grabbed her ebony and crimson checked tote bag from her bed.

"Morning." The grunt of her brother's greeting halted Emily in her tracks, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

"Since when are you up _this _early?" She enquired suspiciously, walking towards the small kitchenette where he stood, busying himself about a coffee pot.

"I just had a bit of a nightmare." He said with a sluggish shrug of his broad shoulders.

"You are such an infant," She retorted with a smirk whilst snatching herself a miniature box of cereal from the cabinets. "But, I don't think I will be home until late tonight to protect you from any monsters."

"Why is that?" Kameron asked, ignoring her taunts.

"I think I will offer to show Izabela around as I shouldn't get any homework on the first day back." She explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I do not see _why _you are going to show her around," He snapped with a shudder. "They just seemed so _creepy_ last night, that whole mansion is creepy as well, suits them perfectly."

"Oh grow up, K.C." Emylee growled. "You sound like a child, I am just being hospitable, surely that is a trait you want your little sister to have."

"Fine," He groaned before pointing to the door. "Just get going and be careful."

Emylee grinned, revealing her pearly white set of teeth before saluting him and scurrying out the door. She scrambled down the stairwell leading from their small apartment at great speed, reaching the ground floor within a minute of her departure and tearing the entrance door out of its frame. The scene was shadowed in darkness, barely looking as if dawn had broken as the morning sun struggled to beam through the thick ashen clouds above.

"Aren't you going to say hello?" A masculine chimed as Emylee's gaze darted towards a pair of figures who rested against a rundown jet black van impatiently.

Damien Grey met her gaze with his bright crystal blue eyes before darting towards her to wrap her small yet curvaceous figure into his towering slender one. His hair fell about his handsome, pale features in a dark mahogany mop with highlights of emerald shimmering through its layers. He was dressed in a pair of jeans that slightly sagged about his figure with bullet belts wrapped around his waist and his torso slid into a metal band tee.

"Okay, you can let go of me now, Damien," Emily said with a grin, struggling out of his grip. "I still haven't given Lils a hug."

As Damien reluctantly released Emylee from his embrace, he wrapped his left arm–which was decorated in oriental tattoos–around her shoulders, guiding her towards the second figure. Lilith Snow's tall, slim figure leaned against the van, her curly bright persimmon orange hair with an undertone of black falling about her slanted jaw, framing her elfin features. A barbell was threaded through the bridge of her nose in between her almond-shaped bright emerald eyes, matching her anti-brow piercing on her right upper cheek. Her torso was slipped into an orange tank top that ended just above her hips, exposing her queen of hearts playing card tattoo that rested on the left one. Above that she wore a jet black waist coat and a black and white pinstriped blazer with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, exposing her many bracelets and wrist bands. Her legs were hugged by a pair of torn leggings beneath a ruffled raven tutu skirt with her feet stuffed into a pair of converse hi-tops.

"Hello my love," She exclaimed, embracing Emylee tightly as Damien unwillingly let go of his grasp on her. "How was your summer, Em?"

"All right thanks," Emylee said as she climbed into the back of the van alongside Lilith whilst Damien shifted into the driver's seat. "What about you two? How was southern France?"

"Surprisingly hot," Lilith replied with a frown. "Our families spent most of their time outside whilst we huddled next to a fan."

The pair continued to chat animatedly to one another as Damien guided them towards the school, his gaze occasionally shifting to his mirror to glance at Emylee for a split second before returning to the road. He felt like it had been an eternity since he had seen her.

"Are we going to hang out tonight?" He blurted eagerly as they neared their destination. "Maybe we could do a movie night or something at one of our places."

"Sorry guys," Emylee replied with a grin. "But I might actually have plans."

"Are you saying you have other friends?" Lilith cried in a tone of mock distress.

"With people like you around, I _have _to have other friends," She replied with a chuckle. "But I was actually going to show around the daughter of the family who just moved into the Victorian mansion down the way from me around."

"Should you really be hanging out with strangers late at night?" Damien scolded. "Especially from that creepy mansion, don't you think there is a reason no one has bought it until now?"

"You sound _just _like K.C. now," Emylee snapped with a roll of her eyes. "I practically had to drag him out of the apartment just to greet these people."

"They are both just morons, it must be a man thing," Lilith intercepted, shooting Damien a warning glare as he moved to snarl back at her. "We will give you a lift home anyhow."

"We could probably hang out for a bit after school, I'm not sure what exactly time Izabela finishes homeschooling and I would rather not just turn up unannounced." She explained as Damien pulled into the parking lot of the school, his grip on the wheel tightening.

"This Izabela girl is lucky that she does not have to deal with some of the morons out here," He groaned, gesturing towards the hordes of students who were pouring into the high school. "I am so glad this is our last year, I am not sure how much more stupidity I can handle."

"I have gotten used to it after living with a brother like mine," Emylee piped with a frown as she hauled the rears doors to the van open. "Anyway, I need to grab some stuff from my locker. I'll meet you two in homeroom."

"Sounds like a plan Stan." Lilith replied, slinging her backpack onto her back before motioning for Damien to follow her.

"I am happy to wait with Em." He murmured innocently as she rolled her shimmering eyes in irritation.

"I will drag you to homeroom kicking and screaming if I have to," She snapped venomously before grinning widely at Emylee. "We will see you in a bit, Em."

Emylee giggled at her comrades before disappearing into the crowd of students, manoeuvring towards her locker impatiently. Finally she reached the ashen-coloured chamber, jamming in her key and twisting the door open quickly. Suddenly, the door to her locker slammed shut to reveal the well-built, athletic figure of Aiden Eastwood leaning against the row of lockers, his arm resting against Emylee's possessively. His shapely lips were pursed together into a smirk as his dark sapphire blue eyes skimmed her figure, a twinkle of ivory shimmering about his ocean blue irises with delight. His wispy golden locks fell about his handsome, sun-kissed face in an attractive bizarrely untameable mop as his perfectly moulded figure was encased in an ivory shirt that clung to the dips of curves of his chiselled chest and a pair of slightly loose-fitting jeans. Any girl would have swooned on the spot if they were in Emylee's position, falling under the charm of his perfect appearance without him even muttering a word, any girl _but_ her.

"You look as sexy as always, Emylee," Aiden murmured seductively with a slight South African accent rolling off the end of his tongue as he moved to slip an arm around Emylee to close the distance between them. "You never fail to impress me."

"Don't you have a girlfriend or two you can annoy?" She snapped jumping back from his grasp defensively as her soft face was now pinching together with irritation.

"Most likely," He said with a shrug before a coy grin spread across his lips. "But you would miss me too much if I left you now and we can't have that, now can we?"

"Leave me alone before I break your jaw." She growled but his smug expression did not falter.

"I do love my girls feisty," Aiden replied as his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Don't you know about us boys who are born on Valentine's Day?"

Emylee arched her pierced eyebrow at him before rolling her eyes with a scoff.

"They get held back in kindergarten?" She replied nonchalantly, a smirk of her own forming on her plump lips.

"Cheap shot, you know I couldn't speak English very well," He snarled, running a hand through his soft, wispy locks. "Besides, if it weren't for that, I would not have my charming little accent."

"Oh well I never thought of _that _before," Emylee beamed, her voice drenched in sarcasm as a fake smile pranced across her face. "Quick, help me get my panties off."

"I would love to." Her expression dropped at his response and she rolled her eyes once more.

"How do you think I could ever date you or even mount you when you cannot understand the most blatant sarcasm?" She sneered, aggravation now bubbling up inside of her as she desired nothing more than to scream at the irritating jock. "You cannot fathom the stupidity of your little crush."

"I _am _pretty cute though and you cannot deny that." He challenged before flashing her a charismatic smile.

"Don't tempt me." Emylee replied with a heartless laugh before swinging her tote bag over her shoulder.

As she turned to walk away, Aiden's strong hand grasped her arm, his chilled flesh skimming over her own gently yet forcefully. He leaned over her, his voice now low and alluring as his hot breath smothered her features.

"Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?" He soothed as she simply started up at him with arched eyebrows as if he were a lunatic.

"Surprisingly enough, I have plans." Emylee replied with a look of aggravation spreading across her porcelain features, his company irritating her like no other.

"You don't need to make anything up, baby."

"I'm not making anything up," She stated calmly. "But by all means, please believe that so you can finally understand that I am not now, nor will I ever be, interest in you."

"Or you are just playing hard to get." Aiden challenged with a vain smirk. Emylee rolled her eyes for a third and final time before wrenching her arm free from his grasp.

"Think whatever you want, but I am leaving." She snapped over her shoulder before storming towards her homeroom class with a scowl.

She halted outside the classroom door before digging her hand into the pocket of her jeans, retrieving her sleek silver mobile phone and flipping it open. She was not going to risk being free tonight for Aiden Eastwood to irritate her any further.


	3. Chapter Three

_**Chapter Three**_

A groan echoed through the slender mahogany coffin as Izabela flopped onto her stomach, messy curtains of ebony crashing about her pallid visage, her dark emerald eyes rimmed by ash grey bags. She bared her teeth as her hands curled into fists, desiring nothing more than to punch her fist through the coffin and crush the device that was vibrating along the side, waking her from her slumber with an erratic array of slams.

With a sluggish wave of her arm, Izabela peeled the lid open, revealing her bedroom that was swarmed with shadows as drapes clung to the slim windows tightly, suffocating out any sliver of light. She slumped herself over the edge, a loose-fitting jet black tee hanging about her her curvaceous body a she retrieved her humming mobile phone. She tore the device open, the screen so dim any human would struggle to make out a single letter of the alert blinking at the bottom, indicating the arrival of a text message from a newly added contact.

"Emylee?" Izabela groaned in a weak voice as she slouched against the floor of her raven cushioned sarcophagus.

Her eyes skimming over the message inviting her out for an evening tour about the unfamiliar town of Hipsterville. Her fingers quickly darted over the keys, a series of sentences appearing on the screen within seconds. Once she was done, she inspected her work that indicated that she would meet the bizarre, bright scarlet haired human late into the evening.

Izabela smiled to herself, slamming her thumb down on the send button and turning off her phone, silencing it permanently. She then chucked the mobile onto a small table beside her coffin before slamming the lid shut, encapsulating herself in thick darkness as she snuggled into her makeshift bed in which any human would become increasingly claustrophobic. She smiled to herself, her figure tucked away softly beneath a thin sheet as she slowly fell into a deep slumber, consumed with illusions of her overactive imagination.

* * *

A pair of ebony and ivory tartan skin-tight jeans clung to Izabela's legs, the garment decorated with various zips as a pair of jet black suspenders hung from the hem, hanging loosely about her thighs. She tugged on a raven hooded sweatshirt that outlined her curves, the arms, which reached just below her fingertips, decorated in ashen gothic markings with a set of bat wings printed on the chest in a similar colour. Her sleek, ebony hair was tied back loosely apart from her slanted bangs which had an undertone of violet dyed into them.

After glancing over her chosen outfit, Izabela snatched her eyeliner pencil from her dresser, quickly outlining her exotic eyes in charcoal before lining her lashes in a thin coat of mascara. She sighed to herself before coating her lips in a layer of ebony-coloured paste, her shoulders slumping forward at her inability to form a reflection, the only curse that accompanied her otherworldly existence.

Apart from the structures she would feel with the buds of her fingers, Izabela barely knew what she looked like. Sure, she could see her body, her hair as it draped over her shoulders, but her face was a mystery, all she relied on was her supposed resemblance to her paternal grandmother and the subtle physical reactions when others laid eyes on her, leaving her to interpret the creases and twitches of their facial muscles.

"Where are you going, Izabela?" Her mother's voice interrupted Izabela's thoughts as she reached the foot of the winding staircase that led from her tower.

Izabela shrugged, continuing her journey towards the exit, not needing to glance back at her parents to know they were sitting in on a lush, Victorian loveseat, balancing goblets of dark crimson blood in their spidery fingers.

"I just thought I would have a look around." She replied, lying with such ease that not even her own parents could notice.

"Darling, we were actually hoping the Drakov's son could take you for a tour." Her mother chimed melodically as Izabela groaned mentally, aware of what the two pure-blooded vampiric families were attempting to orchestrate.

"I have not spoken to Lucas yet," She said, straining a false smile as another lie rolled off of the tip of her tongue. "But he will most likely be out with other vampires our age, so I thought I might try and find him in the centre of town."

"We _knew _you would be excited to see young Lucas," Her father boasted proudly as her mother chuckled harmonically in agreement. "In fact, you will be glad to hear that we have invited him and his parents over to dine on Thursday night."

"Brilliant." Izabela mumbled sarcastically as she hauled the pair of iron lined front doors open to reveal the blackened night sky decorated in a sprinkling of shimmering stars.

"Do not attempt to hunt, Izabela," Her father continued in a low tone. "You may be reaching adulthood, but such medial tasks are for the lesser vampires."

"Wish Edgar a happy night hunting for me." She retorted curtly before tugging the doors shut behind her swiftly.

Darkness clung to the outskirts of the town, only a sole street light flickering down the road from the Varian household offering a single sliver of light, making it practically impossible for any average human being to see anything that was not mere centimetres from them. Izabela dug her hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt, beginning her walk down the deathly silent street that lead towards the metropolis of Hipsterville which was alive with the swarming bodies of young adults and booming of heavy music.

Suddenly, a rush of ecstasy bombarded Izabela, flooding into her nostrils with the stale, evening air, making her tongue run over her sharpened canines and her muscles inadvertently tense in preparation.

Emylee emerged from the shadows lingering between the gathering street lamps, her full, scarlet-coloured lips spreading into a grin that exposed her perfectly straight teeth, Izabela would have assumed they had once bore an array of metal and wires, yet they appeared so natural and untouched. Her curvaceous figure was compressed into a pair of torn leggings and a crimson tee that fell along her mid-thigh, the torso printed in a design of mock ebony lace. The soles of her canvas shoes squeaked over the pavement as she bounded towards Izabela energetically, her vibrant scarlet tinged fuchsia locks bouncing about her shoulders as her dark chocolate eyes sparkled excitedly.

The light hugged her heart-shaped face flawlessly as she finally slowed to a casual walk, outlining the black stud placed above her upper lip and the silver ring that hugged her nostril tightly, whilst the stud through her eyebrow was now a dark maroon colour to match her outfit of crimson and ebony.

"I thought I was going to meet you at your house." Emylee beamed, ruffling her hands through her vibrant tangles to settle them about her fair features.

"It seemed easier to meet you here." Izabela replied, releasing a sigh of relief over her quick decision. She knew with the delectable aroma of Emylee's potent blood, her parents would discover her in seconds and would never approve of her spending time with their livestock.

"I guess so, gives me some more time to show you around." She beamed, chuckling lightheartedly.

"What is first on the tour then?"

"There are some great food joints in town, especially the Jade Lotus; it is an _amazing _Chinese place," Emylee explained as a growl escaped from her flattened stomach, making her laugh nervously. "Sorry, I really did not have much of a lunch."

"I've never had Chinese food before." Izabela mumbled sheepishly as her comrade's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in disbelief.

"You've _never _had Chinese food before? It is seriously my favourite thing to eat; you and I will _have _to get some in town."

"To be honest, I'm more of a meat eater," She replied with a chuckle at Emylee's enthusiasm over Chinese delicacies. "I'm not too hungry right now, but I'd be happy to stop by that Jade Lotus if you are up for something."

"Thanks, I am seriously starving," She grinned, patting her torso in an attempt to silent the groans of hunger that escaped from it. "I will continue the proper tour after grabbing some take-out, besides, you might want to grab something in case you get hungry later."

The pair continued to chatter animatedly to one another as they strolled towards the bustling array of restaurants and clubs that eager individuals gathered about eagerly. Izabela learnt of Emylee's school life, her close comrades, and her run in with her furiously irritating nemesis earlier that day, _Aiden Eastwood_. Even his name made Emylee's blood boil, her soft features twisting together harshly with her hands bunching into fists as his name rolled off of her tongue sourly. Izabela almost felt a twinge of envy over the life she could never achieve, of the buzzing average teenage school that vampires were never exposed to and even of Emylee's close companions that Izabela rarely formed, far too introverted to consider anyone outside her blood more than an acquaintance. Yet here she was, laughing and babbling away with Emylee, actually enjoying her company as she felt her charcoal coloured lips mould into a smile.

"Nice to know you're having fun, Iz," Emylee exclaimed, gesturing towards her smile and returning it with a wide one of her own. "I tend to talk far too much when I meet someone who doesn't annoy me."

"Is that a nickname I hear?" Izabela mocked, hiding the silent glee that swarmed over her at the playful title.

"Well do you want me to call you Izabela all the time? It is quite the mouthful," She challenged. "Just like Emylee, almost everyone calls me by some shortened version nowadays."

"Really? Even your family?"

Izabela immediately regretted her enquiry as Emylee's smile twitched so subtly that another human may not have noticed as her features strained to maintain its cheerful expression. Her heart pounded against her ribcage vigorously, the rhythm quickening as she twisted her fingers over one another nervously.

"I'm sorry," Izabela mumbled gently, eyeing her comrade carefully out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't mean to upset you, Em."

"See, I told you Emylee is a mouthful, eventually everyone shortens it," She chuckled, her grin now vanished completely. "And don't be sorry, I'm not upset, my family is just _complicated_."

Izabela continued to watch her friend carefully, aware that there was a lie lingering in her words yet not daring to press the matter any further. It was only when a small natural smile returned to Emylee's lips that Izabela dared utter a word.

"If you can call me _Iz_, then I can call you _Em_."

"Touché, Iz," Emylee mused, smoothing out her t-shirt dress before grinning mischievously. "I don't suppose you would be up to going to the Coffin Club on Friday night? It's a club just next to my apartment, my friends and I usually go, it is seriously a crazy amount of fun, especially when you haven't met many people here."

"I guess I could go," Izabela replied reluctantly. "I would have to run it by my parents and make sure everything is okay though."

"Of course, but you'll really love it, don't worry."

"Do you want to meet before we go to the Coffin Club, Em?" She blurted curiously. "Considering I barely know my way around and it is probably not wise to send me out alone in search of this club."

"That would be brilliant!" Emylee exclaimed, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "I'll come collect you as soon as you finish home school and we can head back to mine to get ready. Plus I can invite my friends from school and you guys can meet each other, Damien and Lilith are awesome."

"I'd love to meet them and see your apartment considering you have already seen my humble adobe." Izabela replied as the pair bubbled over with laughter.


	4. Chapter Four

I apologise for the language, that's why the rating cannot be lower. D8

* * *

_**Chapter Four**_

Emylee blew a stray strand of blood scarlet out of her narrowed dark chocolate eyes as she tapped the rose-coloured end of her pencil against the wooden desk rhythmically, nodding her foot alongside the beat she had created. Her sour gaze darted up to the ticking clock that mocked her relentlessly, its elongated ebony hand inching slowly towards the three thirty notch. All she wanted was for Thursday to be over and for Friday to come, her Friday school day consisted of brilliant teachers and fascinating lessons followed by a trip to the Coffin Club.

"I see you have a new best friend," Lilith teased, scrolling through Emylee's phone, her pale lips curling into a smirk. "Damien will be ever so jealous."

"Shut up," Emylee snapped, snatching her phone back and tucking it into the pocket of her hazardously torn, skin-tight jeans. "Iz is actually really cool. You guys will love her, trust me."

"Well I can't wait to meet her," She mused before slamming her hands down onto the desk, her bright orange and ebony mop of hair bouncing about her sun-kissed features excitedly. "In fact, why don't we hang out tonight? Just girls and I can get to know Izabela."

"You knowDamien _hates _being excluded," Emylee corrected with a roll of her sparkling, charcoal-rimmed eyes. "Besides, if you had finished reading my texts like the little snoop you are, you would know that Izabela has a dinner tonight with some family friends so that is a no go."

"Well, it was a nice idea whilst it lasted." She faked a sob, crossing her legs which were encased in bright sapphire tights.

Lilith curled her lips into a pout, her slim shoulders slumping forward in sulking, making her anti-brow piercing twinkle in the sunlight that poured through the bare windows. She tugged the sleeves of her striped shirt over her small hands before snapping her fingers in realisation.

"Why don't we hang out tonight then? We can look for some clothes for tomorrow night and everything, seeing as I would like to make a good impression." She exclaimed.

"Sounds perfect," Emylee grinned in agreement, twisting her pencil around to scribble over her nude slab of paper. "You could stay the night at mine as well so we can work on our Psychology presentation."

"We could grab some Chinese after school with Damien then check out some shops so we don't have to walk home." Lilith suggested, clapping her hand over her flat stomach hungrily.

"Sounds like a plan, I am desperate for some vegetarian mini spring rolls," Emylee replied, her crimson glossed lips curling into a small smile. "I was going to get some the other night with Izabela, but she wasn't too hungry and the chip shop down the road from me was open."

"Maybe we could convince Damien to let us style his clothing for tomorrow night." A mischievous smile spread across Emylee's lips at the notion suggested by her close comrade.

"I'm sure we could find a way to do that," She mused with an evil glint sparkling in her dark sienna eyes. "Then again, he dresses fairly well already."

"Is that some admiration I hear?" Lilith teased earning herself an irritated eye roll from Emylee.

"That's like asking me if I have feelings for my brother," She retorted, pulling a face of disgust. "And please do _not _encourage Damien."

"Maybe you should just tell him you know that he wants nothing more than to be your little husband." Lilith suggested before Emylee shot her a glare of aggravation.

"Sorry for not wanting to hurt someone I care about." She snapped.

Before Lilith could push the matter further, a sound erupted through the classrooms as a metal rod slammed repeatedly against the brim of the bell, announcing the end of the school day. The sound of chairs scraping over the floor hummed in harmony as students scrambled to their feet, eagerly stuffing their books randomly in their bags, not caring to maintaining any organisation.

Emylee climbed to her feet, neatly slipping her doodle decorated notepad into her tote bag alongside several books and binders. It was only when a tall shadow loomed over her that she halted her process, whipping around to find Aiden's handsome face only inches from hers, wearing a smug smirk.

"Will you be taking up my offer for dinner tonight?" He murmured seductively, his dark ocean blue eyes skimming her voluptuous figure before he leaned into her well-pierced ear, his hot breath tickling over her flesh. "I will treat you very well and I might even let you come home_ with_ me."

"Get that idea out of your head before I slap it out, you delusional little man." She snapped sourly, running her thumb under the strap of her tote bag impatiently.

"I'm not hearing a _no_," He teased, inching closer and closer to her as he rested one of his arms on the desk, brushing his toned muscles over her waist.

His sickly sweet cologne flooded her nostrils, encapsulating her in his alluring aroma as their lips were a hair's width apart, his begging to clasp over hers. Emylee simply stared at him murderously as she folded her arms over her chest before curling her lips inwards away from his sourly. Suddenly, Emylee was jerked back, her livid expression softening with shock as she was drawn back by a hand curling around her upper arm.

"Fuck off, Eastwood." Lilith snarled venomously, baring her pearly teeth furiously.

"I think this was between _my _Emy and me." Aiden challenged with a pout over the sudden distance between him and his desired target.

"Don't call me _your _anything or I will throw up on the spot." Emylee snapped with a face of retching.

Lilith quickly threaded her arms through the straps of her panda-styled backpack before grasping her comrade's wrist and guiding her away from the lustful Aiden Eastwood.

"Actually, I like _this _view even better," His deep voice swept over them, his accent making onlookers swoon. "I can't wait to see that ass bare in my bed."

"That's it, I'll plead insanity when the judge accuses me of first degree murder," Emylee snapped, turning on her heel and tensing up her muscles. "Maybe I'll get lucky and it'll be a woman who will understand my plight over this utter moron!"

Before she could storm towards the awaiting male, Lilith's slim arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her shorter figure from the ground with great ease. Emylee flailed her limbs about, shouting slurs of threats over her shoulder at Aiden as her vibrant haired friend dragged her from the room, literally kicking and screaming.

"Why are you so fucking strong?" She cried, slapping her hands over the arms that held her hovering above the ground. "I could have slugged that prick so hard that he could have to eat through a straw for the rest of his superficial little life."

"Aiden Eastwood is not worth it, nor is a year's worth of detention." Lilith scolded her in a motherly tone.

"It might be worth it, we won't know until we find out." She protested with a pout.

"I am not letting you go until you calm the hell down," Lilith muttered, rolling her bright emerald eyes at Emylee's continuous, violent complaints. "Besides, you need to forget about that prick and enjoy the night with Damien and I, or I will have to conclude that you have feelings for Eastwood."

* * *

"I hate Aiden Eastwood," Damien snapped angrily as the trio slipped into the plush seats of their private booth within the buzzing Chinese restaurant, the Jade Lotus, after ordering their meals. "I mean I could honestly take a swing at him everything I see his face."

Damien's tall, slender figure was compressed into a pair of tight-fitting jeans littered in bullet belts with a black metal band tee hanging about his torso, littered in safety pins. His hands were stuffed into a pair of fingerless gloves, curled into fists of protective jealousy as Emylee retold the story of her rude intruder. He flicked his dark mahogany well-layered mop of hair out of his eyes, his deep green highlights dimming following his rapid hair growth. He ran his teeth over his spider bite rings through his plump bottom lip, skimming his teeth over the flesh nervously as Emylee arched an eyebrow at him curiously.

"Calm down, Damien. It's not like he complimented _your _ass." Lilith snapped as she settled into her seat, smoothing out a napkin over her lap.

"My point still stands." Damien returned, snatching a prawn cracker from the dish on the centre of the table.

"I'd rather not talk about Aiden Eastwood," Emylee admitted as she glanced about their ivory and ebony styled booth with a gold insignia of the restaurant printed here and there. "It'll put me off my Chinese food and we do not want that."

Damien sighed in defeat before nibbling on his prawn cracker, the pair of girls following suit until the saucer was bare of any crumbs. After swallowing a mouthful of crackers drenched in a sour sauce, Emylee dabbed her mouth with her napkin–careful not to smudge her coat of scarlet gloss–before grinning at her friends.

"Are you two excited for tomorrow night?" She beamed, running the buds of her fingers over her black Monroe Mole piercing, fiddling with it absentmindedly. "I was telling Lilith that I think you two will really like Izabela."

"I don't know, I still find that mansion creepy as hell," Damien replied critically, folding his arms over his chest. "Although, it's nice to be able to meet this girl and approve of her or not."

"Relax, Damien, she's not a mass murder or anything." She snarled in irritation.

"Well, you can't just trust everyone," He challenged, taking on a fatherly tone of voice as he prepared to scold her. "But, because you _do_ think the best of everyone, _I _have to protect you because no one else will, seeing as–"

"The food is here!" Lilith exclaimed, intercepting the argument that was about to begin between the carefree, fun loving Emylee and the overly protective, envious Damien.

The Asian woman smiled at them gently as she settled their dishes upon the table, pleased by the words of polite gratitude she received. After a quick warning of the heat of some of the dishes, she vanished back into the restaurant whilst Emylee grinned widely, her eyes widening hungrily at the plates before them. Portions of special fried rice sat here and there, encircling the plates of Singapore fried noodles, garlic broccoli, crispy shredded beef, vegetarian mini spring rolls, and more.

"I have missed you my love!" Emylee exclaimed, grasping her saucers and chopsticks in preparation.

With a nod of approval from her comrades, she began to scoop servings of food into her bowl, her stomach grumbling eagerly, deafening her in anticipation as she ensured that the majority of the spring rolls rested neatly on her plate.

Suddenly, a group of fur individuals passed the window, bubbling over with pompous laughter and loud, inconsiderate conversations between them as Emylee snatched the bowl of rice before her. They were drenched in dark, gothic-styled clothing that made them fit in perfectly with the dark evening of Hipsterville, the oddly beautiful cluster no doubt earning themselves many lustful–and curious–stares. The final member strayed behind the first three, his lips pursed together in sour silence as he went.

He stood tall, his well-built form towering over his three comrades almost threateningly. His perfectly chiselled, milky white chest was exposed by his ebony mesh shirt whilst his long legs were compressed into a pair of charcoal cargo trousers that sagged slightly, held in place by an array of studded belts and chains. A black collar was threaded around his neck with sharpened studs running through it, matching the studs framing his leather, jet black combat boots that crashed over the pavement heavily.

Suddenly, his shadowy eyes met Emylee's inquisitive gaze, a sudden sparkle of excitement erupting into life in his previously disinterest gaze. He craned his neck to glance at her, revealing his handsome face completely as he fully absorbed her appearance through the glossy window. An untameable mop of raven tangles framed his fair features, various strands flicking out defiantly, causing him to shove a black beanie with a skull embossed on the front over his hair in a desperate attempt to flatten it. Through the lobes of his ears sat gauges, not too small to be unnoticeable, but not too big to be unattractive.

Emylee felt her lips curl into a small smile as she ran her tongue over her teeth nervously, the stud through her tongue skimming over the roof of her mouth. The mysterious boy returned her smile gently before a hand emerged from the darkness and grasped hold of his mesh shirt. His gaze shifted to one of his friends as she shouted at him before rolling her eyes and tugging him after the others impatiently.

"You need to lay off the rice, Emy." Damien's voice snapped Emylee back into reality as the boy vanished after his friends.

"Huh?" Emylee blurted, glancing to her plate to find she had dumped over half of the bowl onto her saucer. "Sorry, my mind was elsewhere."

She grinned sheepishly, returning the bowl to the table and dropping her gaze to her meal as her cheeks burned deep crimson. As she slowly made her way through mouthfuls of food, her mind crept back to the boy who had passed by the window, to the sudden twinkle in his eyes at the sight of her, to his handsome appearance. He was the first boy she had ever found _captivating_.


	5. Chapter Five

_**Chapter Five**_

"Now straighten your back, you do not want me to end up tying you into this hunched over, now do you, Izabela?" Izabela's mother, Aurora, chimed as she slipped a corset about her daughter's torso. "Hold this; I would like to compare it to the maroon one."

"I would like to wear neither." Izabela muttered as she pressed the corset to her body, mimicking the shape for her mother to inspect.

"You cannot look a mess when we have company," Her mother scolded, narrowing her dark brown eyes at her daughter. "Both Violeta and I look our bests just like you will."

Izabela felt her dark emerald eyes skim over her mother's tall, slim figure that was compressed into a Victorian-styled dress of ivory and pale steel blue, the corset stringed immensely tight to accentuate her curves. Her golden locks were held back in a bundle of lustrous curls, held in place by elegant, raven-coloured roses, native to their homeland.

Violeta bounded to her mother's side with a small, playful grin spreading across her rose-coloured lips as her waterfall of dark sienna brown curls bounced about her miniature waist ecstatically. An ivory blouse clung to her torso with a stiff, high-neck collar, the sleeves falling to her wrists as her hands held a white lace parasol over her figure. Above this she wore a deep lavender dress, the hem skimming below her knees which were hidden by a pair of cotton, ivory tights with her small feet were hugged by a pair of glossy ebony flats with Victorian buckles that held amethyst gems in the centre.

"Izabela is just nervous about seeing Lucas," Violeta teased with an adorable giggled. "Her childhood friend is all grownup."

"Why did you not tell me you were nervous, dear?" Her mother soothed, running her spidery fingers through Izabela's limp, ebony tangles before smiling gently. "Do not worry in the slightest; you will look as beautiful as we know you are when your sister and I are finished."

"Mother," She groaned as Aurora darted about the cream dressing parlour in excitement, rummaging through chests in search for the perfect ensemble for her daughter. "Mother, please stop it."

"No need to be nervous, you just have to trust us." Her mother brushed her off, chucking various items of clothing at Izabela with a mutter of instructions.

"I am _not _nervous!" Izabela hollered, her voice exploding far louder than she intended as the pair of buzzing girls stopped before her. "I will dress myself like the near adult I am."

"I _need _you to look nice." Her mother returned as Izabela shooed her sister out of the room before gesturing for her mother to leave as well.

"I will look nice," She snapped with a roll of her eyes. "But I will dress in what _I _am comfortable with."

"And what if you look like a grungy, lowlife in those torn trousers you love ever so much?"

"I will wear a bloody dress then, just leave me to do it myself." She growled venomously as her mother reluctantly obeyed.

Izabela glanced about the empty room before darting towards the pile of clothes, suddenly aware that she stood in nothing by a pair of briefs and the corset she still held to her curves. She hoisted a full-lined, raven-coloured petticoat skirt up around her hips, fastening to her curves gently and slipping on a dark bra before letting go of her grip on the corset that was covering her previously bare torso. She tugged on a taffeta overskirt of a charcoal tinged dark maroon with a triangular opening down the centre, revealing her petticoat skirt. She slipped an ebony ruffled shirt onto her torso, its long sleeves extending to her wrists before jetting out into ruffles of intricate lace. The necklace plunged downwards, lined with wired double ruffling that moulded to the shape of her chest.

With a roll of her dark eyes, Izabela reluctantly tugged on an under bust corset that hugged her lower hips, hiding the hem of her array of skirts before setting just beneath her ample bosom. The corset held a design of thick black and dark sangria stripes that complimented the colouring of her ruffled skirt. After securing the steel-boned, terribly uncomfortable garment to her body, she stuffed her feet into a pair of flats even though they were hidden beneath the ends of her petticoat. Izabela knew if she tried to enter bare foot her mother would notice in a heartbeat and march her right back into this room and force her into a new ensemble that she approved of.

Izabela slipped an ebony bar through the piercing in her right eyebrow before rimming her eyes in charcoal with such ease from years of practice without the aid of a reflection. After coating her thin lips in a layer of colourless gloss, she slipped a comb through her dark locks, pinning back the first few strands of her pin-straight mane with a pair of black tulip clips. She smoothed out her side-swept bangs which held an undertone of dark violet that her parents still cursed her for.

"The Drakovs have arrived." Violeta squeaked from the dark mahogany door, tapping her knuckles over it gently.

"Coming, I will meet you in the lounge," Izabela replied, waiting for the sound of her sister's footsteps to vanish out into the lounge before sighing to herself. "Well, time to get this over with."

She glanced at her phone before setting it to the side with her pyjamas and exiting the room, forcing a smile onto her lips as she entered the lounge. Her father, Ciprian Varian, grinned as he climbed to his feet, gesturing the attention of the room towards his eldest daughter, his tousled ebony hair combed neatly out of his handsome face, framing his high cheekbones. His eyes matched Izabela's in colour exactly and his tall, well-built form was compressed into an ebony and ivory Victorian suit that framed him immaculately.

Two figures mimicked her father, standing as Izabela approached them. Rexander Drakov stood tall, his long raven haired tied back loosely out of his pointed, elfin face that was hugged by the flickering candlelight. His wife, Irma, nearly reached his gargantuan height, her equally dark tangles cut into a sharp bob that framed her attractive face, the face of a portrait model that was once famed about the vampires of Transylvania.

"Good evening, Izabela." Rexander boomed, extending a large hand of greeting towards her whilst his wife bowed elegantly.

"It is lovely to see you again," Izabela replied, maintain her smile with such fluidity that those around her failed to notice its deceit. "I trust your flight here was well."

"We are glad to see you remember us, Violeta was struggling," Irma soothed, smiling gently at the younger Varian daughter. "Then again, you were only a toddler last time we saw one another."

"I'm sure she could not have forgotten me." A smug voice chimed as the Drakov son stood from the black satin love seat with his thin lips wearing a vain smirk.

Izabela felt her eyes widen at her once lanky, miniature childhood friend who now stood tall, matching his father in height exactly. An ebony buttoned-up collared shirt clung to his finely chiselled torso, contrasting his paper white features whilst his long legs were compressed into a pair of black, tight-fitting slacks that sagged slightly about his hips, only held in place by a single studded belt. His long fingers were adorned in various extravagant, sterling silver rings with creatures of night engraved into them as well as winding mythical serpents that matched the pendant that hung from a silver chain threaded around his neck. To complete his look, he wore a pair of creeper shoes and his nails were hugged by a coat of black polish.

Lucas' once childish face was now incredibly attractive with perfectly defined bone structure and a pair of almond-shaped, captivating violet eyes sitting on either side of a flawlessly straight. His pointed ears were pierced with size 2 gauges along with a sprinkling of black rings along the lobes and an industrial bar stuffed through the top of his left ear. His piercings were hidden beneath his well-layered mop of bluish ebony hair decorated by streaks of dark purple that matched his eyes impeccably. Izabela had known her old comrade would grow up, but she still expected him to be a lanky, snivelling little brat who she could pummel to a whimpering mess in the blink of an eye.

His eyes darted towards Izabela, widening to the size of dinner plates as he scanned her figure. Although she still retained her average height, her large curves forming an hourglass shape was definitely unexpected. After all, she had expected Lucas to still resemble an adolescent boy; he no doubt assumed she would not have changed at all as well.

"Of course I haven't." Izabela replied with a forced tone of sincerity as she crept towards an armchair, attempting to control her desire to wipe the smug look off of his face as she passed him.

"Neither have I, why don't you sit with me? After all, we have a lot of catching up to do." He soothed, returning to his position on the loveseat before patting the space beside him.

"Actually I–" Her parents harsh glares of warning halted her rejection immediately. "–I would love to catch up."

She nestled herself onto the seat, shifting as close as she could to the arm to maximise the distance between their bodies as the adults chatted amongst themselves. Edgar soon scurried into the room, balancing a tray of goblets filled to the brim with freshly harvested blood in his frail hands. He quickly distributed the wine glasses before bowing gracefully and vanishing into the shadows, scurrying back to his chambers.

The night dragged on with witty banter and nostalgia, each second feeling like an hour to Izabela as she mentally prayed that all would end soon, until finally the clock chimed for the early hours of the morn. Clapping her hands together, Izabela's mother offered the idea of a mansion tour to the Drakovs who gleamed with interest. Quickly and skilfully, just before the two teenage vampires could stand, Irma grinned knowingly.

"Perhaps we should leave Lucas and Izabela here," She suggested coyly, the sets of parents looking at one another eagerly. "All of our chattering has stopped them from getting a single word in to one another."

"That sounds perfect, doesn't it, dear?" Izabela's mother beamed as Izabela simply nodded in response, holding her tongue to prevent her from snapping at her parents angrily. The last thing she desired was to be left alone with him.

"Perfect, come along, Violeta. You can lead the way." Ciprian boomed before the vampires drew from the room, tugging the dark double doors shut behind them to give the pair privacy.

Izabela wanted to drive her fist through a wall, there was nothing _private _between her and the vain insect sitting beside her and the knowing looks their parents shot one another only made her more furious.

_Why can't a pit just open up in the floor and swallow me whole right now? _She thought sourly. _Surely that_ _would be better than spending time alone with _him.

"You are awfully quiet," Lucas' voice slices through her thoughts as his toned arm snaked around the back of the seat, his unique eyes narrowed coyly. "Although, it _is _natural to be nervous in a company such as mine."

"It's far more natural to feel nauseous." She snapped, scooting as far away from his body as he leaned towards her.

"Lying is not attractive in a young lady," He scolded with a wider smirk. "Although I am happy to loosen your tongue myself."

"You are making me feel sick," Izabela sneered, pushing him away from her with enough force to slide him to the other end of the loveseat. "And if you so much as touch me, I will break your arm."

"You could never bring yourself to break something _this _beautiful," Lucas corrected, gesturing towards his handsome face and well-built body with a proud smile. "I suppose being out of touch with Transylvania for so long has kept you out of the know on my success."

"Whoever gave you the title of successful in Transylvania is clearly deluded." She snorted in disbelief.

"I will show you one of my portraits sometime, my parents are currently trying to hire one of the Sterling family to paint me for my many fans, he happens to live in a nearby town," He stated. "Although, I am not sure how much of him I can handle, he holds a stench of human about him from his _lover_."

"I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I care," Izabela snarled with a roll of her eyes. "But, I really do not. Besides, all of us know how the Sterlings are, so his apparent stench and choice in a partner should come as no surprise to you."

"I suppose. I am not sure how we got so off topic," He exclaimed, quickly returning to the conversation to him with a self-satisfied look. "I am an underwear model in Romania and I am even growing in status here. I am surprised you have not seen any of my portraits."

"I do not find the idea of seeing you in your undergarments remotely appealing, so I am pretty thankful that I have not seen any of your portraits." She muttered in a tone of disinterest.

"The lady doth protest too much, methinks." Lucas grinned as he quoted the bard, inching closer to Izabela once more.

"If you do not get a hold of yourself, I will murder you."

"And how do _you _plan to do _that_?" He smirked, running his tongue over the rings threaded through his snake-bite piercings mischievously.

"Ripping your enemy's head off always works best," She sneered, exposing her sharpened fangs darkly. "I would be happy to prove it to you if you are volunteering."

"I do not mind a girl with a bit of bite, all the more for me to tame out of her." He murmured alluringly.

"And you are still a snot-nosed brat." She snapped as the doors to the lounge peeled open.

Before the intruders could get a single glance at the pair sitting mere centimetres apart, Lucas darted back, seating neatly upright as if nothing had happened. Izabela narrowed her eyes at him in irritation as their families sauntered into the room, eyeing the pair excitedly.

"My apologies for the interruption you two," Rexander chimed before gesturing to the windows. "The sun will be rising soon and we had best get going."

"Of course, unfortunately the time truly does fly by when you are in such hospitable company." Lucas replied with false sincerity as he thanked Aurora and Ciprian for the stay in their home.

"We would love to do this again, perhaps you and your daughters could come to us next time." Irma suggested as Izabela stalked after her parents as they escorted their visitors to the front door.

"Actually, I was hoping to ask your permission on something Aurora and Ciprian," Lucas began with a mischievous smirk. "I would love to show Izabela around the town tomorrow night, give her a real insider view if you two approve."

"Perfect!" Aurora exclaimed, unable to contain her excitement as Rexander and Irma grinned proudly at their son before shooting their old friends knowing looks.

Izabela resisted the urge to roll her eyes once more before clearing her throat, interrupting the enthusiasm sharply.

"Unfortunately, I have plans to visit the Coffin Club tomorrow night." She stated as a hand suddenly grasped her shoulder tightly, her mother's well-filed nails digging into her flesh lividly.

"Cancel your plans then." Her mother hissed through gritted teeth.

"I can't." Izabela snapped back in disinterest before tearing her mother's hand from her.

"I was actually planning to visit the Coffin Club as it is quite the vampiric hotspot," Lucas chimed with a harmonic chuckle. "I would be happy to allow Izabela to accompany me and make sure she returns home safe and sound."

Izabela glanced at her parents who watched her wearily before she sighed in defeat and reluctantly bobbed her head into a nod of agreement that returned the smiles to the adults' faces.

"What time will I pick you up–"

"I will meet you there." Izabela interrupted nervously, well-aware of what a stuck-up brat who shared the opinions of her parents would say about her new human comrade.

"Brilliant," He replied. "I look forward to it."


	6. Chapter Six

So, after tomorrow, I have study leave to study for my final exams so I won't be able to write as much as usual. This upsets me especially because I am surging with ideas right now. Hehe, but I'll try and post at least once week, maybe more. If I don't, I'll go on a massive posting spree when I finish my exams. I mean I'm talking over ten chapters in the week after exams.

* * *

_**Chapter Six**_

"Welcome to my humble abode, Iz," Emylee exclaimed as she tore the front door to her rundown apartment open, leading Izabela in before glancing at the bizarre clock settled on the far wall, made completely out of old fizzy drink cans. "My friends will probably be here in an hour or so."

Izabela nodded, softly shutting the wooden door behind her as she glanced about the main room decorated by a scattering of CDs and vibrant neon-coloured chairs. Darkness was creeping about Hipsterville, the night owls soon rising from their beds to flood the clubs in an array of ecstasy and sweat.

"That door leads to my brother's room, he'll probably be in there for the rest of the night like the hermit he is," She explained, gesturing towards a door in the corner before directing Izabela to a pair of doors on the opposite wall. "The right door is my bedroom and the left is the bathroom. I guess that's all you need to know to get yourself around."

Once Izabela nodded in agreement, Emylee grinned widely and led her comrade to her room. Her room was a perfect square with a double bed resting in the corner, decorated in unique cover of an ebony base and bright crimson winding vines. A desk sat at the foot of her bed, scattered in parchment laced with ink and opposite the table sat her towering closet, stuffed far over its capacity to the point where garments were tumbling out of the bottom.

"Sorry about the mess." Emylee muttered sheepishly, drawing a bag of fast food from her tote bag before chucking it onto her bed.

"This isn't a mess, you should see my room." Izabela grinned as Emylee chuckled, kicking off her ballet flats before dropping into an ebony beanbag chair.

"You can sit if you want, just put your bag anywhere." She piped, gesturing towards the black and white striped beanbag to her left before nibbling on a few crispy, golden brown chips.

"Okay," Izabela squeaked nervously, reluctantly tucking her messenger bag by the door before taking her allocated seat and smiling at Emylee. "How was school?"

"Not too bad, I seem to have lucked out this year and got my favourite lessons and teachers on a Friday so the day just flies by," Emylee explained, snatching the remote control to her small, antique-styled television before flicking through the channels in disinterest. "You are pretty lucky that you don't go to school though, I have to deal with some real imbeciles."

"Who have you had to deal with today?" Izabela enquired curiously; almost eager to learn about the schooling she was robbed of.

"A boy, Aiden Eastwood," Emylee winced just at the feel of his name rolling off of her pierced tongue. "You'll hear from Damien how much he is despised by us. Honestly though, he is painfully annoying yet girls seem to fall at his feet in admiration. Sure, he's good looking to a degree, but he honestly makes me want to put a gun to my head. And because of my disgust and his irritating nature, he won't leave me alone. Every day I am greeted with some form of perverted slur or invitation for dinner _and _whatever revolting dessert is on his mind."

"Well, I guess you've killed any desire I had to go to school." Izabela groaned.

"You're welcome, honestly, it is not as fun as it may sound," Emylee's attention darted back to the television and she frowned. "I hate late afternoons on a Friday; there is never anything on TV because everyone is going out."

"I haven't watched much American television anyway," Izabela replied with a sluggish shrug of her shoulders. "I just watch old episodes of Doctor Who."

"Doctor Who?"

"Precisely. It's an old English television show from the 1960s and it went off air towards the end of the century. However, the BBC has brought it back on and it's seriously brilliant," She beamed excitedly. "It's pretty sci-fi, but you'd love it. I'll lend your one of the DVDs sometime."

"Awesome, I'm always up for trying something new." Emylee beamed before devouring another cluster of chips.

"Just so you know, the irritating son of those family friends who were over last night plans to turn up at the club and irritate the hell out of us," Izabela stated, curling her lips into a pout. "Hopefully we can avoid him, although I have a feeling we won't be able to."

"Well, I'll try my hardest," After finishing her food, Emylee dusted off her jeans and climbed to her feet, grinning at Izabela. "We should get ready or we'll get a lecture for being late from Damien."

Emylee grinned at her reflection as she smoothed out the ebony tube top that clung to her chest with a scarlet kiss mark printed on the left breast, ensuring the fabric would not slip from her curves. Her slim legs were encased in a pair of skin-tight, black vinyl trousers that highlighted her curves, exposing her tramp stamp tattoo of a Japanese blossom with winding vines cascading towards her hips, just above the hem of her trousers. A black stud was pierced through her navel, now visible by her bare abdomen, making the studs threaded through her eyebrow and just above her lip, forming a Monroe Mole. The diamond stud pierced through her nostril was now replaced with a small silver ring that matched the many decorating the crevices of her ears along with several tapers and industrial bars. Her scarlet, hazardously layered hair was ruffled into a Scene style that exposed the shades of dark fuchsia jetting out from her roots, completely hiding her natural colour.

After inspecting her reflection once more, Emylee snatched up her makeup bag, rimming her dark mischievous eyes in smoky eye shadow and thick charcoal eyeliner highlighted by a thin strip of crimson liner. After coating her lips in a layer of red lipstick that assured her it would not smudge, she slipped her feet into a pair of bright red Mary Jane platforms. Before she could exit her room to call to Izabela in the bathroom, the door swung open, revealing her guest.

Izabela's torso was compressed into a raven tank top with a zip running up the front, the low-cut squared neckline exposing her pale chest with a dark, lace-trimmed choker hugging her neck. A ruffled, ebony skirt was held to her hips by a studded belt with a pair of ebony and ivory striped suspenders hanging from the hem loosely. Her feet were stuffed into a pair of black leather, steel-toed boots laced up to her knees tightly, leaving her pallid, slender thighs bare before they vanished beneath the torn ends of her skirt. Izabela's long, well-layered ebony hair fell loose about her shoulder blades with a miniature top hat fascinator pinned onto her head whilst her slanted bangs swept freely above her curved eyebrows, fully exposing the undertone of purple. Izabela also wore a spiked, leather wristband upon each wrist, akin to the multicoloured bangles jingling about Emylee's wrists.

"You shape up nice." Emylee teased with a grin.

"Thanks, I didn't take you for a platform type." She replied, gesturing towards her comrade's bright scarlet shoes with an arch of her pierced right eyebrow.

"As a short girl, I think you too understand the need for heels, Iz," Emylee beamed, snatching her phone from her tote bag before tucking it into her ebony handbag, slinging the thin strap over her shoulder. "Do you want me to carry your stuff? It's easier to have as little bags as possible."

Izabela nodded in agreement, placing her casual clothes into her messenger bag before handing Emylee her raven and crimson, Chinese-styled purse and sleek, silver mobile phone.

"Thanks, I was dreading bringing my whole bag with me." She smiled before Emylee gestured towards the door.

"It looks like we got ready just in time, I think I can hear Lilith and Damien outside," Emylee explained with a grin before leading Izabela from the room once she ensured all was in order. "You are seriously going to love my friends."

The pair emerged from the ground floor of the apartment block moments later, chatting animatedly to one another as they were flooded in the cool evening breeze. A squeak of excitement erupted further ahead, Lilith's figure breaking away from the lamppost it was leaning against to bound towards Emylee eagerly. Her jaw-length orange tinged ebony hair fell loose in an array of lustrous curls, framing her sun-kissed features as the staple piercing across the bridge of her nose glinted in the persimmon lamplight. An off-the-shoulders, black tee dress hung about her tall, slender figure with rips torn across the front to reveal the tank top underneath which matched her hair in its neon colour. Her legs were hugged by a pair of torn leggings which vanished into the dark witch boots running up to her calves.

"Finally, we have been waiting for ages," She muttered, tugging Emylee's shorter, curvier form into a tight embrace before her big charcoal-rimmed emerald eyes darted to Izabela. "I'm Lilith Snow, you must be Izabela."

"That would be me," Izabela replied with a half-smile. "It's nice to meet you."

"Damien!" Lilith hollered over her shoulder sharply. "Come meet Izabela so we can start walking!"

Moments later, a towering slim figure stalked towards them with a look of irritation as he narrowed his bright blue eyes at Lilith sourly. His mop of dark sienna hair bounced about the nape of his neck, electrified by green highlights that looked almost bizarre against his sparkling, crystal eyes. He wore a pair of tight-fitting black jeans and a similarly coloured hooded shirt with the sleeves torn off to reveal the array of tattoos climbing up his left arm.

"This moping prick is Damien Grey," Lilith explained before gesturing towards Izabela. "Damien, this is Izabela."

He glanced at her in disinterest before his eyes quickly darted towards Emylee, widening in awe of her appearance.

"Emy, you look..." Damien struggled to find his words before he forced a nervous grin onto his lips. "Why don't we start walking to the Coffin Club?"

After receiving unanimous nods in agreement, Damien turned on his heel and led the way, striding ahead of the trio of girls protectively, occasionally sneaking a glance over his shoulder at Emylee as she chattered away to Izabela and Lilith.

"Damien seems nice, Em," Izabela whispered, eyeing him carefully. "So very entranced by you, I feared he was going to pass out on the spot a moment ago."

"Don't say such a thing," Emylee hissed angrily. "We are _just _friends and will _never _be anything more."

"Sure." She replied sarcastically as Lilith chuckled approvingly.

"I like this girl," She explained before slinging an arm around Emylee's shoulders. "I approve of your new friend, Emy."

"Well, if my new friend talks about Damien liking me anymore, I won't like her anymore," Emylee snapped before grinning. "Luckily enough, we have arrived and I can drown out your insane theories with pounding music."

Before the teenagers stood a building that boomed with heavy music, a long line of eager young adults buzzing outside the entrance, the bouncer barely able to contain the squeals of excitement. Izabela rolled her eyes, folding her arms over her chest before arching an eyebrow at Emylee and her friends.

"You guys could have told me that you were going to make me wait in line for a good couple of hours," She whined. "I would have brought a book or a gun to shoot myself with."

"Luckily we have our good luck charm us," Emylee beamed with a chuckle before clapping a hand on Damien's shoulder, ignoring his proud expression. "Damien works at the late night tattoo parlour across the road and works alongside the club to provide them a lot of business and even act as a substitute bartender when needed."

"Not to mention Emy is such a frequent flyer that she might as well live _in _the Coffin Club." Lilith snickered.

"I like what I like, there is nothing wrong with that," She replied with a sheepish smile before Damien dragged the trio towards the bouncer. After a quick exchanged of muffled words, Damien ushered the trio of girls into the club, accompanied by a groan of irritation from the impatient onlookers.

The inside of the club was far grander than many would have expected, mannequins drenched in leather and cobwebs dangling from the ceiling above the horde of dancing individuals. The walls were decorated in posters of slogans and famed heavy metal bands who had performed in the buzzing club. A bar was nestled alongside the stage, the bartender grinning excitedly at the cluster of potential customers fluttering about the flashing strobe lights.

"It's pretty impressive, isn't it, Iz?" Emylee exclaimed, her loud tone barely audible over the booming music as Izabela nodded in agreement. "I'll get us some drinks so you three can gt to know one another."

"Plus, Emy looks the oldest out of us regulars," Lilith added. "And as a new customer you will definitely be asked for your ID, Izabela. But don't worry, Damien and I will take care of you whilst Emy is gone."

Emylee grinned, nodding in agreement before sauntering away from her friends, ignoring the stares of lust that followed her as she went, aware that Damien was no doubt dying to accompany her and threaten to murder anyone who stared at her so hungrily. Reaching the bar, Emylee ordered an array of drinks coyly before turning to eye the crowd, leaning her back against the brim of the bar

"That's a lot of drink for one girl." A deep voice chuckled from her side, her head snapping around to stare at the boy who now appeared at her side, perched upon a stool casually.

Emylee felt her cheeks heat up, burning deep scarlet as her widened eyes recognised the male instantaneously. His raven, untameable locks were once again stuffed beneath the same black beanie, hiding the gauges threaded through his ears whilst a few stray strands tickling over his dark eyes that twinkled gently at her. A black shirt clung to his chest, outlining the dips and curves of his well-built torso with a hazardously torn neckline and sleeves. His hips were adorned in bullet and studded belts whilst his legs were compressed into a pair of straight-leg, ebony jeans that hung loosely about his steel-toed combat boots. His large hands were stuffed into a pair of tattered, fingerless gloves and a collar was slipped around his neck, resembling that of an animal with a silver buckle resting along the front.

"Well, I like to have a good time," Emylee managed to respond, finally gathering her voice together. "I'm Emylee."

"Rocco," He beamed, extending a hand towards her which she shook gently, stunned by the touch of his large, chilled hand against her miniature one. She knew she was blushing by now, her whole body feeling hot and nervous under his sparkling gaze. "You look very familiar, Emylee."

"That's because I saw you outside the Jade Lotus." She blurted eagerly before clasping a hand over her mouth, instantly regretting what she had exclaimed as he raised an eyebrow at her curiously.

_Yeah, sound like a stalker, why don't you, Emylee? _She mentally scolded herself. _He will _really _find that appealing._

"I know, I remember," Rocco murmured with a small smile spreading across his lips that relaxed her tensed body immediately. "It's hard to forget such a beautiful face and vibrant hair," He extended a hand towards her, combing his fingers over a stray strand of her scarlet locks as Emylee allowed him to tuck it behind her heavily pierced ear. "You really do light up a room."

"T-t-thank you," She stuttered nervously, finally gaining control of her body and taking a step back from him. "Are you here alone?"

"I came with a few friends," He replied with a shrug before narrowing his eyes at her curiously. "What about you?"

"I have some friends waiting for me somewhere, but we will end up disbanding and finding one another sometime after midnight." Emylee replied with a harmonic chuckle.

"Is that so? No boyfriend or even a girlfriend?"

"Well, it _would_ be a boyfriend, but I have neither." She soothed with a smirk as Rocco grinned widely.

"Wonderful." He murmured as the bartender cleared his throat, presenting Emylee with her orders as she thanked him gently.

"I should take these back to my friends," She explained, grabbing two of the four glasses before glancing at her hands, stumped as to how she would transport the rest. "I might have to get one of them actually."

"Don't worry, I'll grab them," Rocco beamed, taking the two remaining drinks and one of the ones she held in one of his strong hands. "My friends still haven't found me so we might as well stick together, I mean, if you'd like to look together."

Rocco extended his free hand towards her, glancing at her delicate, limp hand anxiously. She smiled gently, nestling her hand into his, the brush of his flesh over her electrifying her nerves.

"I'd love to."


	7. Chapter Seven

So VK9 is going to be called 'Stormy Nights'. I'm pretty excited now! XD

* * *

_**Chapter Seven**_

A large pallid hand laden in sterling silver rings erupted from the moshing crowd, snatching onto Izabela's arms and tugging her to the beholder.

"I thought you were bringing friends with you, or were you just trying to play hard to get?" Lucas murmured as his snake-bite pierced lips moulded into a smirk.

Izabela tore herself free violently, a frown spreading across her thin lips as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"_These _are my friends," She snapped, gesturing to Lilith and Damien who lingered behind her curiously. "Well, one of us is missing, why don't you two go look for Emylee and help her with the drinks? I'll deal with him."

"Who _is_ he?" Damien snarled as Lilith rolled her emerald eyes and grabbed hold of his shoulders.

"C'mon, we're going to find Emy." She muttered before smiling at Izabela, assuring her they would return soon.

Once the two had vanished into the pulsating wave of bodies, Lucas' smirk spread as he blinked bright lavender eyes vigorously, rising his perfectly straight nose to sniff the musky air.

"Your Emylee must own that delectable blood that I can smell all over your clothing," He murmured, his voice lustful and hungry. "I can even smell her through the crowds."

Izabela jerked forward, curling her hands into fistfuls of the heavy metal band tee that clung to his chiselled torso, pulling him towards her so their faces were mere centimetres apart as she glared at him murderously. His long legs were hugged by a pair of dark blue, skin-tight jeans with an array of spiked and studded belts hanging from his lanky waist. His feet were stuffed into a pair of punk-styled combat boots and various chains were draped around his neck gently. His ears were littered in rings and on his exposed bicep sat a tattoo of a bleeding moon.

"Don't you _dare_ even consider doing what you are thinking about doing," Izabela snarled venomously. "Or I will make sure you will have to be fed blood through a tube for the rest of your pitiful existence."

"She smells delicious though and surely she must also look it," He protested with a smirk, still desperately sniffing at the air as if trying to get high off of Emylee's pungent aroma. "Can't I just have a tiny nibble? I'll share her with you if you're _that _possessive.

"You could never share and either way I would rather go hungry than share any of my meals with you," She scoffed before tightening her grip on his collar and baring her pointed fangs. "But, listen to be carefully, I am not defending Emy for that; no one is going to drink from her, _ever_."

"I see how it is, the lonely little outcast Izabela has found her only friend in her prey, how pathetic," Lucas grinned smugly as he taunted her. "But I do love a challenge and I can't wait to test Emylee's beautiful blood."

"You may be from a pure-blooded, fully vampiric family akin to my own, but that does not make you my equal," She snapped, their faces so close now that her words gnawed at his fair features murderously. "And if you even _dare _to come within an inch of Emylee, fangs bared or not, I will make sure your revolting little Drakov line ends with you."

"I'd never have thought that you'd be so jealous." He replied with a chuckle, grasping her fists tightly as they clung to his collar.

Izabela let out an animalistic snarl through her gritted teeth, narrowing her dark emerald eyes into a lethal glare as she tore her hands free from Lucas' grasp. She folded her arms tightly over her chest to stop herself from lashing out at the smirking vampire as she spoke.

"Make all the excuses you want, but I am going to put it as plainly as I can for you to understand," She hissed in a slow, patronising tone. "Emylee is _my _friend and _you _are going to leave her and her blood well enough alone."

"All right, try not to blow a fuse. I will not touch your precious little human," He replied in defeat before smirking smugly. "Not tonight at least, seeing as I have a little lady waiting to amuse me for the evening already."

"What poor delusional soul is spending the evening with a brat like you?" She enquired with an arch of her pierced, right eyebrow.

"A beautiful Miss Katerina would." Lucas announced, smugly ignoring Izabela's snide jab at his ego.

"Do _not_ call me that, Luke," A sharp, steady voice snarled as his date appeared at his side with a frown curling across her ebony lips. "It's Kat or I will break your teeth."

His date's dark, well-layered hair bounced about her jaw in a pixie cut, different tones of sienna brown to charcoal black running through the lopsided bob, a few small strands falling into her fair face. She stood taller than Izabela, her height greatly accentuated by a pair of knee-high, platform boots as her subtly yet sultrily curved figure was hugged by a corset dress, decorated by tones of ebony and blood red, the ruffled skirt ending just above her mid-thigh to reveal her striped stockings and their laced trim held to her by a pair of suspenders that vanished beneath the hem of her skirt. A choker was slung around her neck, a small bow settling on the side of it whilst a charcoal-coloured headband with devil horns was settled neatly in her styled hair with a scarlet rose entwined around it.

"But Katerina is so much more beautiful," Lucas murmured, grasping her chin in his forefinger and thumb, tilting her attractive face up to glance at him as his breath swept over her gently. "It is a beautiful name for a beautiful girl."

"Luke, I–" Kat's dark, almost pitch black eyes darted towards Izabela, narrowing into an envious glare as she eyed her curvaceous form. "And who is _she_?"

"An old family friend, well, if you are using the term friend loosely. Izabela is a new addition to the vampiric nightlife and just happened to turn up here on our special night," He soothed, his lie virtually undetected by the girl that now clung to him possessively, pressing her body to his alluringly. Lucas' voice dropped to a whisper, his lips curling into a wicked smirk. "Have you bought your imbecilic comrades with you?"

Kat tore away from him defensively, her glare parting from Izabela to meet the captivating violet eyes of Lucas. She folded her arms over her chest as she bared her fangs at him angrily, her short fuse clearly having blown.

"My friends are _not _imbeciles," She correctly in irritation. "They are good individuals and are worthwhile if you would make an effort to be pleasant once in a while, Drakov."

"Of course _you_ would think that, love." Lucas replied with a heartless chuckle, slinging his arm around Kat's waist, not letting her fury faze him in the slightest.

"I never thought I would see the day when Kat defends us," A deep voice hummed as a pair of males emerged from the erratic crowd. "We were on a hunt for Rocco and look who we found instead, I thought you were far too busy to come to the Coffin Club tonight."

The speaker was tall, only just matching Lucas in height with a mop of wispy flaxen tangles clinging to his neck, shorter fringes falling into his handsome features whilst his roots were jet black, unintentionally revealing his true hair colour. His lips curled into a cunning smirk, the ring hugging his bottom lip glinting mischievously in the strobe lights as his deep chocolate eyes glanced from his comrade to Lucas, who wore a look of disdain. A pair of hazardously torn, skin-tight jeans clung to his long legs with studded belt fastening the hem to his hips, decorated by a skull and crossbones buckle. He wore a ripped shirt upon his torso with the logo of a European metal band printed on the front just before the torn neckline that revealed his milky white collarbone. Above that he wore a black leather jacket, the shoulders sprinkled in sharpened spikes that looked as if they were prepared to kill whilst the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows to reveal his studded wristbands.

The second male appeared far more timid, his diminished height only standing taller than Kat by an inch with an extremely thin frame, looking as if he might snap if not handled delicately. His pale tangles were slicked back neatly out of his pallid, youthful face apart from a set of side-swept bangs that rested above his rectangular framed glasses. In his ears rested a pair of white buds that led to the iPod tucked away in the pocket of his black and white striped slacks, pounding his own melodies into his mind, drowning out the noise of the bustling club. His slim torso was compressed into an ebony waistcoat and an ivory shirt whilst a pair of suspenders hung loosely from his hips, rather than in their appropriate position around his shoulders.

"Seeing as you are here, have _you _seen Rocco?" The shorter male asked before he tilted his head towards Izabela, his narrowed eyes peering at her curiously over the brim of his spotless glasses. "Who is she?"

"An old acquaintance of mine," Lucas intercepted before any introductions could be made. "No one of importance, so why don't you two run along and find your little friend?"

"Why don't you shut it before I make–" The taller male began, clenching his hands into fists.

"This is why I didn't tell you guys I was coming!" Kat shrieked, her livid tone silencing the pair of heated males instantaneously. "Luke, just introduce her so we can get on with our night or so help me I will murder one of you, if not both."

Lucas hesitated, clearing his throat nervously as he eyed the trio wearily before gesturing towards Izabela.

"This is Izabela Varian," He muttered faintly before pointing towards the other three. "This is Katherina–"

"It's Kat!" She interrupted but Lucas continued regardless.

"–as you have already figured out and these two are Tripp," He pointed to the shorter one before glaring at the taller and snarling his name venomously. "And Claude."

"As in Claude _Sterling_?" Izabela enquired as Claude nodded smugly, clearly pleased by the stranger's ability to recognise him.

She belted out a heartless laugh, sniffing the air before smirking at Lucas whose expression was now overrun with irritation.

"These are the friends _you_ are going to spend the evening with?" She sneered. "The infamous Claude Sterling and his moronic cronies, a bunch of imitation vampires no better than a little turned human with the stench of the cold, dead blood of lower mammals and donators."

Claude glared at her murderously, shoving passed Kat, his features now pinching together lividly. His hands curled around Izabela's upper arms, leering over her as she returned his glare yet her expression remained calm and collected.

"I _dare _you to repeat what you just said," He growled so viciously that most girls would have melted into a puddle of their own tears by now. "You _will_ regret it."

"Do you even remember the taste of a human's blood? What it does to your body?" She mocked, arching her eyebrows at him before flashing him her canines. "You may have already fed on whatever packet the blood bank gave you today, but that doesn't make you at _my _level. Don't try and play with the big boys, a little lamb like you could get hurt."

"You don't scare me," He corrected, his face now centimetres from hers as he revealed his own set of fangs. "I have spent my life dealing with vampires like you."

"A word of advice," She muttered, wrinkling her nose at him in disgust. "You should really keep to a distance, not only is your revolting stench practically suffocating me, but you are truly hideous at this angle."

"You're not a prize either," He barked, his words flooding over her before a squeak of excitement interrupted the air, the bright-haired Emylee emerging from the crowd with a look at relief as she discovered Izabela.

A man stood alongside her, his well-built form towering over her as his dark eyes darted about the scene curiously, the stench of a vampire radiating off him, more specifically, one of Claude's vampires. Claude smirked, not releasing Izabela from his grasp as he ran his tongue over the silver ring encasing the left of his bottom lip, eyeing Emylee lustfully.

"Oh, but she is magnificent."


	8. Chapter Eight

I guess this is my writing day in the midst of all my exams and studying. I was pretty productive today in terms of Chemistry, so I thought I could let myself do some writing. :D I have so many ideas for this story, it's seriously crazy. My head feels a bit like it might burst.

* * *

_**Chapter Eight**_

The night flashed by in the blink of an eye, an array of heated bodies and pounding music that nearly deafened all of the figures that moved together beneath the twinkling strobe lights, the sweat of ecstasy clinging to any bare flesh. Emylee ran her hands through her vibrant locks, fluffing her hazardous layers about her slightly reddened cheeks, attempting to alleviate herself of the heat that clung to her curvaceous figure as she sauntered towards the exit, various other exhausted young adults filing out through the doors, eager for the crisp breeze of early morning.

"Did you have a good night, Iz?" Emylee piped, grinning at her dark-haired comrade who nodded rapidly

"It was really great," She exclaimed before glancing from Emylee to her pair of friends who were downing bottles of water eagerly. "Thank you guys, it was something I really needed. And it was great to meet some new people, especially ones as great as Lilith and Damien."

"Wait a moment," Emylee halted on the spot, whipping around on her heel to see the towering figure she had spent the majority of her night with lingering with his trio of eccentrically dressed. "I just need to do something."

Scurrying away from her baffled companions, Emylee soon arrived at Rocco's side, her mischievous dark chocolate eyes narrowing at him suspiciously.

"Were you ever going to ask for my number then?" She piped, standing on the tips of her toes in an attempt to reach his eye level as he simply grinned widely. She held up her hand as he moved to speak before digging through her miniature bag and retrieving a small marker. "This might be permanent, just so you don't forget."

She scribbled down her number across his well-toned forearm, her well-filed nails skimming over his milky white flesh gently, sending brief shocks of vibrations through his nerves, making them twitch beneath her. After she finished up her work, she glanced up at him, his handsome face now softened with amusement.

"Women really have everything in their bags, don't you?" He hummed with a deep chuckle.

"We really do," She replied, producing a soft giggle of her own. "So you'd better give me a ring or I'll be forced to use my womanly ways against you."

"Don't worry, I'd never dream of misusing a treasure so rare," Rocco stated, hugging his pen-covered arm to his torso possessively before glancing down at her, emphasising his height teasingly. "Or unleashing your terrifying wrath upon me."

After a few small words of assurance, Emylee bid Rocco farewell, unable to contain her smile of excitement as she jogged back to her awaiting companions.

"I guess someone is feeling a bit adventurous tonight," Lilith teased, shaking her ebony and permission curls out of her fair features with a smirk. "I have _never _seen you give a boy your number so early on."

"Do you mean something by that?" Emylee chimed with an arch of her pierced eyebrow.

"Nothing at all, he is pretty cute after all." She replied as they exited the building, dispersing from the horde of inebriated adults into the darkened streets.

"He really is," Emylee sighed, not bothering to deny the attraction she felt bubbling up inside of her at the sight of Rocco. "Do you three want to spend the night at mine? It's pretty late and it's best not to be walking _or_ driving home with all these drunkards stumbling around."

"That'd be great, Em! We could get to know Izabela without the barrier of deafening music."

"I'm not sure about that, Lils, my brother _is_ at home and seems to have no concept of volume control." Emylee groaned, pulling a face before the pair burst into giggles.

"I don't think I could stay the night," Izabela intercepted with a frown tugging across her thin, pale lips. "I've still only been here for a bit and my parents will probably freak out if I'm not at home."

"But, they don't want you out late at night by yourself," Emylee pleaded, pressing out her bottom lip into an adorable pout as the four of them neared her apartment block. "C'mon, it will be fun, I promise."

"How could you give your number to a random guy?" Damien's voice interrupted the trio of girls, his bright azure eyes now narrowed lividly as he folded his arms over his chest tightly, his hands clenched into tight fists.

"It's pretty simple actually, I think you'd be able to understand the whole concept, you give a number to someone, so they can contact you." She snapped, noticing the cold tone that clung to his words.

"Sometimes I think you don't have any common sense–"

"Keep your pants on, Damien; it's not that big of a deal." Lilith argued as Damien just continued over her, ignoring her comment completely.

"–First you give your number to a girl you _barely _know. Sure, Izabela turned out to be all right, but that doesn't mean _everyone _is," He scolded. "You can see all those men staring at you so perversely and you just allow it. Even that guy Izabela brought along was, thanks a lot for that piece of work."

"Don't take this out on Iz just because you're so high-strung," Emylee countered, raising her voice to match his as her expression began to twist with malice. "People have a right to do what they want; I can't do anything about it. I don't give _you _a hard time when you stare at girls like you're about to swallow your own tongue. So why should I go and tell of a _stranger_?"

"Because it's responsible, because it's _safe_. I am trying to take care of you, but you make it so bloody hard."

"I don't _need _taking care of, you don't need to act like my father all the time, you could try just being my _friend _for once." She snarled furiously, practically fuming at the nostrils with rage.

"Of course I need to; no one else is going to act like it! No wonder you're so damn careless!" He bellowed as Izabela looked on in pure confusion whilst Lilith let out a gasp of shock.

"Damien..." She hissed murderously.

"Go to Hell, sometimes you make it so hard to put up with you." Emylee growled at Damien, her dark eyes shimmering with salt water as charcoal began to smudge against the rim, awaiting the stream of tears.

Before he could apologise for his outburst, she turned on her heels and darted into the block of apartments, her heart slamming against her chest vigorously as if begging to jump out. As she scaled the stairs, tears began to cascade down her hot cheeks, the desire to run back and plough her fist through her comrade's face almost overtaking her. She finally reached the door to her home, practically forcing her key into the lock before flinging it open and scrambling inside, fearful of her neighbours catching her sobbing in the hallway.

She knew he was worried for her, perhaps understandably worried with the wild side she harboured and poor decisions she has made despite her remarkably unexpected intelligence. But it gave him no right to speak of her parents, even in the midst of a cloud of anger as all her decisions were made to forget the pair, to free her of the misery that still clung to her at the mere thought of them. They had been gone since she was seven, gone in a collision of metal, the other driver far too intoxicated to even notice the small car containing the pair turning the corner before he throttled it onto the pavement.

She did not dare talk to anyone about her parents, not even her older brother, being fifteen years her senior; he was far more aware of the gravity of the passing of their parents and could barely cope. Except he had to, he had no choice but to stuff his melancholy deep down away from the surface in order to car for the parentless seven-year-old that now depended on him for her entire survival. Only his art served as his emotional escape as her piano–and soon after singing–served as hers.

Suddenly, a cold arm curled around her shoulders, breaking Emylee from her thoughts as she felt the voluptuous figure of Izabela embrace her tightly. Emylee tried to wipe the charcoal-stained tears from her cheeks before her comrade could see, but Izabela simply took her hands tightly in one of her own whilst her other rubbed her arm comfortingly.

Soon after, Lilith appeared before her, handing her a steaming mug of chocolate brown liquid decorated in a swirl of ivory whipped cream hugged by a coat of powered chocolate. Lilith smiled; tucking a stray strand of scarlet out of Emylee's reddened eyes whose head was now resting against Izabela, the contrast of her ice-cold temperature and Emylee's heated sobs calming her slowly.

"Geez, Lils, do you want me to gain a stone or something?" Emylee sniffled as she took a sip of the sweet drink, allowing it to send a wave of warmth through her shuddering body.

"Are you kidding? A lucky bitch like you _never _gains weight," She replied with a small chuckle as she tugged a pillow off of the loveseat, placing it underneath her rear once she plopped down on the floor. "I'm sorry about all of that, Emy, Damien is just... Well, you know."

"Still, it gives him no right..." She muttered with a childish pout as Izabela nodded in agreement.

"Either way, I think it's best we do not talk about that," Izabela added before smiling gently. "I think I _will _stay the night here. Just a warning though, I sleep for _ages _on the weekend during the day and really cannot handle daylight when I'm this tired."

"Do you all forget I have a brother who is practically a hermit? He probably can't be exposed to direct sunlight because he spends all his time in his dark little man cave," Emylee explained, snatching a tissue from the box on the tattered coffee table to dab her wet cheeks before grinning softly. "Trust me; we have tight enough blinds that no light will get in even at midday."

* * *

Emylee groaned, tearing her aching eyes open as she felt her body throb, begging to return to its peaceful slumber. The rude interrupter of her snooze continued to trot along her body, putting pressure on her flat stomach as he let out a purr of affection.

"Meeko, I'll feed you later." She muttered as the tabby cat continued his journey until he reached her chest, sitting on it and staring at her in anticipation with wide, bright emerald eyes.

The pair continued to stare at one another before Emylee surrendered, shuffling towards the end of her bed as the cat scrambled towards the door to her room eagerly. She slipped out of her duvet, careful not to wake the tall, slender figure that rested on the other side of her double bed, snoring away blissfully as her mop of hair shadowed her deadpan expression chaotically.

"Meeko, it's a wonder that I can sleep next to Lilith." Emylee piped with a small smile as she smoothed out the faded tank top that clung to her chest, slightly crinkled from her tossing and turning.

She tugged at the end of her shorts, ensuring she was appropriately clothed as she passed by the inflatable mattress clinging to her bedside; Izabela's figure completely vanished from sight apart from the vague outline of her curves hidden beneath the dark duvet, desperate to escape any possible light.

_I really do have an amazing friend in her._ Emylee felt her smile widen at the thought. _In the both of them. _

She took one last look at the pair before slipping out of the room with Meeko hot on her heels as she closed the door gently, careful not to wake either of them. She scurried towards the kitchenette, snatching Meeko's silver bowls off of the floor and filling one to the brim with an array of dry biscuits and the other with a slap of wet food of a salmon flavour.

"I don't see how you can eat that stuff," She mused, wrinkling her nose as Meeko began to eat the wet food eagerly. "It smells disgusting."

After running her hands under cold water to ensure the stench did not linger, she retrieved a box of cereal from the cupboard followed by a bowl and spoon. She dumped the chocolate spheres into the bowl before filling it to the brim with milk and scurrying into the open plan lounge, taking a seat to enjoy her meal. She flicked on the television, turning down the volume to ensure she did not wake either of her friends or her brother who was presumably sleeping despite the fact that it was nearly twelve. Leaving the television on a channel that was halfway through showing _The Chronicles Of Narnia: The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe_, she began to tuck into her food, watching with delight as the milk became sienna brown.

"Damn it, William Moseley is hot," Emylee mused, setting down her bowl after spooning out the last remains of her cereal. "If all English boys are like _that _then Iz is so lucky to have lived in England."

Suddenly, her voice burst into life on the coffe table, vibrating over it erratically and nearly giving Emylee a heart attack. After calming herself and allowing her heart rate to return to normal, she snatched the sleek device from the tabletop, having forgotten all together that she had left it there the night before.

Flicking the phone open, it revealed an array of texts to her, all titled with the same name, _Damien. _She frowned at the memory of last night, gripping her phone tightly as if it were to snap in half at any moment beneath her fierce grip as she violently began erasing each new message before she halted at the final one, sent from an unknown number. She felt her eyebrows arch into her mess of bed-head, her heart drumming against her chest anxiously, even becoming impatient during the brief interlude as the phone opened the text for her.

She barely even read it the first time, her eyes settling in on one phrase that made her body flood with euphoria, the memories of her dispute with Damien evaporating before it.

'_I'd love to see you again, tomorrow good?'_


	9. Chapter Nine

_**Chapter Nine**_

Izabela felt her head throb furiously as she removed the fluffed ivory pillow resting upon it, slowly rising from her uneasy slumber upon the stiff mattress resting in the middle of Emylee's bedroom floor. Her body ached; unable to truly refresh itself without the perfect darkness of her coffin, although it tried its best huddled beneath the thick duvet allocated to Izabela. Despite her weariness, she stood by her decision to stay the night with Emylee, well-aware of her distress over the comments made by Damien at the time.

Izabela scowled at the memory, her hands curling into tight fists that she wished to throw at the moronic human for blindly throwing comments out there about a topic so sensitive to Emylee. Was he just beyond stupid? Even Izabela had picked up on the graveness of speaking to Emylee about her parents immediately when she enquired about her home life, yet this boy who had known her for years blurted out such a slur regarding them.

After tearing herself from her thoughts, Izabela groaned tiredly, rubbing her palms roughly against her eyes, which were no doubt now hugged by dark bags, before glancing about the room, noticing both Emylee and Lilith were missing from sight. Raising her nose high in the air and sniffing at it, the scent of Emylee's pulsing blood flooded over her, directing her towards the living room. She quickly gathered herself together, adjusting her pyjamas which had ruffled about after a night of tossing and tumbling.

When she tore the door to the bedroom open, she was greeted with the sight of Emylee huddled on the sofa, her eyes glued onto the television whilst her hands were clutching her mobile phone tightly.

"Nice of you to finally wake up," Emylee teased, her excited brown eyes darting towards Izabela's groggy figure before she grinned widely. "You can grab anything from the cupboards to eat if you like; I'm just wasting time with the television."

"Actually, I should get home soon..." She admitted, suddenly aware of her lack of blood nourishment since the night before, almost fearing for Emylee's safety as the sickly sweet stench of her blood wafted through Izabela's nostrils tantalisingly.

"Do you play?" She blurted awkwardly, gesturing towards the upright piano to her left as she struggled to ignore the Emylee's deep, rhythmic heart beat.

"Yeah," Emylee beamed, her dark eyes narrowing at the piano sharply. "I guess it's hard to believe that someone like me-" She gestured towards her blindly bright scarlet tinged fuchsia mop of hair. "-would have a talent that _normal_."

"Don't worry, I share that enjoyment Em," Izabela smirked softly, skimming her fingertips over the rim of the scuffed up piano. "Except I miss playing on a quirky upright piano like this, at home we have a monstrous and practically ancient grand piano and it's almost impossible to play anything with my pitifully small arm span."

"A grand piano?" Emylee's sparkling chocolate eyes darted towards Izabela in wonderment. "I would love to see it someday."

"Oh, yeah," The vampire squeaked, suddenly growing in nervousness at the idea of her human comrade entering a house full of ravenous creatures of the night, intoxicating them with her delectable stench. "Well if my parents ever get up and out of the house, I'll make sure to invite you over."

Izabela then forced a soft smile of reassurance across her lips, which Emylee mirrored before her gaze dropped to the sleek silver device that she clutched tightly. A stiff silence settled between the two girls until Izabela shook her head of dark hair and cleared her throat, her nose wrinkling as she failed to pick up the lingering scent of another teenaged female.

"Where's Lilith?" She blurted curiously

"She had a babysitting job," Emylee replied before chuckling lightly. "It's just after six after all; she couldn't stay here all day."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude or anything–"

"You're not intruding at all," She smiled warmly, switching off the television and widening her grin. "I actually really wanted to talk to someone about something."

Izabela leant against the edge of the deep mahogany piano, her dark emerald eyes narrowing at Emylee curiously with an arch of her pierced eyebrow. Her smile did not falter as she sat cross-legged across from Izabela's inquisitive gaze, combing her bright scarlet locks behind her ear nervously. A soft look was plastered across her heart-shaped face to hide her anxiety, but Izabela could easy see through the mask, sensing the human's quivering hands and quickened heart rate which sent impulses of anxiety and hunger through the vampire's pallid form.

"So, what's going on?" Izabela prodded with slight worry, almost feeling her head spin into a blur of inebriation.

"Well, Iz, I opened my phone this morning after I got up and there was a message on it," Suddenly Emylee's smile grew, revealing her pearly white teeth as her grip on her phone tightened. "And Rocco, from the Coffin Club last night, has asked me to grab a drink tonight in about an hour. Initially I was so excited to go, but I just wanted a second opinion on it. As much as I love to have fun, I don't want to act like I'm incredibly easy or waste my time on a _boy_. Maybe I am just getting frazzled because I'm nervous, but what do you think of all this?"

Izabela eyed her wearily, desiring nothing more than to scream _no _at the top of her lungs, well-aware that the stench hanging around Rocco was that of a vampire, one of Claude Sterling's gang. Then again it was not her job to dictate Emylee's love life and Rocco was probably the closest she could get to a _safe _vampire, safer than hanging around Izabela.

Even with all the self-control in the world, Izabela still fed on humans, even if she did not hunt herself, Emylee was still a member of her prey. But for Rocco, he was sworn never to harm anyone like her in order to gain his fully vampiric status, thus he would not dare feed upon her. Especially once he knew that Izabela herself would ensure his existence came to a slow and painful end if he even considered laying a finger on Emylee.

"Are you all right?" Emylee's voice interrupted her mournful thoughts that had suddenly made her edgy over the stench of her comrade's blood.

"Yeah, fine, I was just thinking about Rocco and what you should do," Izabela lied, smiling a crooked smile before continuing. "Why are you two meeting so late?"

"Well, the town doesn't really light up until the evening and he said he works during the day, so night was the only time available."

"He works?" She suppressed a snort of disbelief as Emylee nodded sharply. "Where does he work?"

"At a bar, I asked if we could just meet there," Emylee explained, tapping her well-filed, matte black nails against her phone rhythmically as she spoke. "But no under eighteens allowed. Knowing I'm underage, he can't serve me any alcohol and the bar is also a gambling hub which makes it _completely_ off limits for me."

Well, at least Rocco could lie and cover up his true nature as a vampire, Izabela would have to credit him for that, although she remained suspicious of his interest in Emylee, especially after witnessing the relationship of Alexander Sterling and a human female that was once the source of gossip amongst the vampire community back home. Eventually, Izabela concluded her mental deliberation with herself, sighing under her breath before smiling at Emylee supportively.

"Well, you seemed to enjoy his company last night, so I don't see why you shouldn't go out with him tonight," She stated, noticing how Emylee's beam grew as she received the answer she had hoped for. "And if things don't go so well, at least you know for sure if he was the sort of guy for you or not. Worst comes to worst, send me a message and I'll bail you out as soon as I can."

"You are far _too _insightful to be a _normal _seventeen-year-old. But, when put that way, I had better get ready soon," She joked as she leapt to her feet, dusting herself off before glancing at Izabela without a falter in her grin. "You can stay after I leave if you like, my brother won't be leaving his room, so he won't mind if you are around."

"It's okay, I should head home," As she spoke, Izabela could not help but smile at Emylee's trust in her, at her willingness to leave her alone in her home, to take her advice regarding her own social life. "I've been missing in action for nearly twenty four hours; I do _not _want my parents to come looking for me."

* * *

A sleek ebony bat fluttered into the tower protruding through from the Victorian styled mansion, settling itself upon the glossy lid of the empty coffin that lay in the centre of the darkened room. Izabela let out a groan of aggravation as her curvaceous form replaced the winged creature, her elbows propped up upon her knees as she buried her fair face in her hands. Curtains of jet black hair swept passed her shoulder blades in a well-layered mess as she hunched over, pursing her thin lips together tightly.

"I should not have let her go..." She muttered to herself before letting out another groan and collapsing back onto the firm top of her sarcophagus. "If he even lays a finger on her-"

With another snarl, Izabela snatched her phone from her pocket and darted to her feet, standing rigidly upright. She stormed towards the door, a look of determination spreading across her fair features as she tore the door forcefully from its frame.

"Izabela," Ciprian Varian snapped calmly, his dark emerald eyes glaring down his straight nose at his newly arrived daughter. "How kind of you to finally grace our home with your presence."

He folded his hands neatly behind his back, not breaking his critical glare from Izabela as her bold expression rapidly vanished. His charcoal hair was combed neatly out of his handsome features, the lingering candle light of the hallway framing his defined cheekbones, whilst darkening his tall form. Izabela forced a crooked smile across her lips, her gaze darting passed her father, peering uncomfortably down the winding corridor behind him.

"Time got away from me at the club with Lucas," She felt the lie coolly roll off her tongue as her eyes returned to her father's and her smile spread to appear more natural. "I ended up meeting a lot of people."

"And where did you spend the day? Why did you not come home by sunrise?" He questioned suspiciously.

"Lucas introduced me to a few other vampires," Introduced was probably the wrong word, he actually bombarded her with a couple of genetically inferior vampires who only gained a full-blooded status by glugging down the treasured blood of another. "We ended up spending the majority of the morning in the graveyard and I didn't really know my way home. Lucas offered to take me, but it did not seem worth the risk of getting caught out in the horrible sun."

Izabela knew if she could find the snivelling Drakov brat before her father tried to cross reference the story, she could snap at him until he fell into submission. He would not dare admit that the _real_ reason he had been hassling Izabela for the entire night within the darkness of the booming club was so that he could fawn over her gorgeous, vibrant-haired comrade, getting high off of the aroma of her captivating blood.

"Very well then," Suddenly a smile broke out across Ciprian's elfin features and his dark eyes sparkled with delight. "You are quite taken with the Drakov boy; he really has grown up to be quite an impressive young man."

Izabela gawked at her father in disbelief, almost wanting to beat the praise out of his deluded head as there was _nothing _impressive about _Lucas_. But, she kept her smile plastered across her lips as she followed her father from her bedroom down the winding staircases towards the dining hall where Edgar awaited with goblets of freshly collected aromatic blood with rare steaks awaiting on shimmering silver platters.

As Izabela tucked into the meal, her innards grumbling in anticipation, her mind could not help but wander to her newly formed companion who was by now out with Rocco. She could only hope she was safe yet the more she thought about it, the more she could only imagine the broad, towering vampire overpowering the defenceless human, draining her veins dry before discarding her corpse in the shadows of a darkened alleyway.

With a quiver of her bottom lip, Izabela gulped down the remainder of her drink before folding her cutlery neatly on the plate in front of her that was swiped clean of any meat or even a single drip of blood from the rare cutlet that once sat there. She nodded awkwardly at her father and her mother who sat whispering gently to her younger sister before excusing herself from the table, scrambling towards her room nervously. There was no way she was going to leave Rocco alone with Emylee, she had to keep an eye on them and she could do so _without_ being noticed by _either _of them.


	10. Chapter Ten

I have not updated in ages. I'm so sorry! Forgive me! *grovels at your feet* I LOVE YOU! Okay. That was a bit extreme. But still. xD I feel a little stumped about this chapter, it feels like a filler and I feel bad for posting it. :/ I'm also aware Shakeaway is from the UK... But they have such lovely milkshakes. xD

* * *

_**Chapter Ten**_

Emylee groaned at her reflection, tugging her outfit off of her voluptuous body once again before glancing at her watch. She barely had any time left before her date with Rocco and she still stood in the middle of a pile of clothes, dressed only in her undergarments. She slumped her shoulders forward, flicking her wet hair out of her deflated dark brown eyes before reluctantly returning to her closet and searching for clothes once more. She snatched a few clothes from the bottom of her armoire, a smug smile spreading across her full rosy lips as she climbed into the outfit.

"This could work." She grinned at her reflection in approval.

Her plump rear was hugged by a pair of white wash short shorts, revealing her long, fair legs with her small feet tucked into a pair of worn-out ballet flats. Her developed torso was compressed into a jet black camisole that rose slightly above her midriff, revealing the stud pierced through her navel along with her tramp stamp tattoo of a blooming Japanese flower, the vines cascading towards her hips. Above that she wore a pale cream loosely knit jumper that was far too large for her figure, the v-neck dipping to expose her camisole along with her ample cleavage whilst the hem fell along her rear and the sleeves fell passed her well-filed, ebony nails.

She quickly blow-dried her hair, fashioning her well-layered blood scarlet tinged dark fuchsia locks into a Scene hairstyle before combing her side-swept bangs neatly along her thin eyebrow, framing her deep chocolate eyes that she soon lined with thick charcoal eyeliner and smoky eye shadow along the lid. After coating her lips in a colourless gloss, Emylee took one last glance at her reflection, her heart-shaped face littered in piercings. Her ears were aligned with all sorts of piercings along all the crevices whilst a jet black stud was pierced above her lips, forming a _Monroe Mole _and matching the one threaded through her eyebrow, navel, and tongue. Finally a silver ring hugged her nostril, completing her outgoing yet utterly alluring appearance that earned her many lustful glares from the men around her.

Suddenly the shriek of the doorbell echoed through the apartment, making Emylee nearly jump right of her skin as her heart skipped a beat. She felt her palms grow sweating as butterflies erupted into life in her stomach, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart slammed furiously against her chest as her breath caught in her throat whilst she slowly crept towards the door anxiously. She gripped the door handle tightly, grasping control of her nervous breathing before tearing it free of its wooden frame, revealing the towering figure leaning against the threshold.

Rocco leant his elbow against the door frame, his free hand stuffed into the pocket of his slightly sagging ebony jeans that were held to his hips by an array of studded belts. His chiselled torso was slipped into a jet black top, its short sleeves revealing his well-toned arms as an array of studded bands pranced about his wrists. His trademark spike collar was slipped around his neck and his mop of dark hair fell free of any hat, framing his handsome face with a few strands flicking free of the style defiantly. His ashen grey eyes skimmed Emylee's figure, twinkling with delight as his shapely lips folded into a small smile.

"Don't we look adorable?" He murmured, shaking his hair out of his eyes to fully absorb her appearance.

"Adorable? Well I had better go change." She joked, turning on her heel as if to leave before his large hand grasped her petite one, whipping her back around to face him.

"Don't worry," He whispered, pulling her figure to his. "I _like _it."

"Emylee, I thought we had agreed no strange men in the house." The sound of her brother's voice immediately separated Emylee from Rocco, her eyes narrowing into a murderous glare at her sibling.

Her thirty one-year-old brother stood tall, yet Rocco still towered over him, his figure slender and covered in an array of tattoos along his limbs and torso. His long dark brown hair fell in tousled tangles about his shoulders as thick stubble clung to his strong jaw. He was dressed in a loose-fitting band shirt and a pair of skinny jeans, his feet only covered by a pair of dark socks. His eyes were narrowed at Rocco suspiciously.

"K.C. go back to your little cave," She snapped angrily, folding her arms over her chest, mirroring his irritated stance. "We were just leaving anyway."

"What's the hurry, sis?" He sneered, approaching the duo, trying to hide the fear that was rushing through his figure at Rocco's immense height and well-built form. "Maybe I should get to know your friend a little before you two go anywhere."

"Maybe you should do a lot of things, perhaps jumping of a bridge is a good thing to try first," She growled, shuffling out of the room with Rocco in tow. "Anyway, I'll be home late, don't wait up. Bye."

With that, she quickly slammed the door shut behind her, not waiting for her brother's response as she grabbed Rocco's large hand and bolted down the stairs, dragging him along with her. He obliged, moving with her as she guided him by the hand, her fingers laced through his. As they reached the foot of the stairs, slowing down to a gentle pace, she began to slip her hand away, but his grip grew tighter. Emylee glanced up at him with arched eyebrows as he half-smiled nervously, on the verge of letting go of her hand in embarrassment before she entangled her fingers through his once again.

"I didn't take you for a hand holding type." She teased, gesturing to his dark, domineering figure with a smirk dancing across her full lips.

"You're one to talk, Emylee," He replied, glancing at the piercings dotted along her beautiful features before mirroring the curling of her lips. "But if you don't want to, then you can just let go."

Emylee paused for a minute, pressing her lips tightly together in thought before tightening her hold on his strong hand with a beam. Silence settled between the pair as they sauntered down the pavement, heading towards the slightly quieter district of Hipsterville, filled with cafes and restaurants rather than clubs and dark alleyways for even darker transactions. As the blaring music exuding from the clubs slowly softened into the hum, the pair reached their destination.

"I guess the only thing left to do is find somewhere to grab something to drink." Rocco piped as the couple were finally able to speak to one another without having to scream over the pounding heavy metal music of the gothic clubs.

"Well, what are you in the mood for?" Emylee replied, scanning the section of Hipsterville which she rarely ever set foot in inquisitively.

"I probably won't have anything; I had a lot to drink earlier." He admitted ambiguously, his deep grey eyes darting from his bright haired escort to the pavement in front of them, feeling bizarrely anxious about his fluid lie.

"At work?" She enquired without suspicion. Rocco felt his whole body relax before he grinning and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, I probably should have avoided that, but I was a bit anxious for our date." He murmured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly with his free hand.

"Oh, so this _is_ a date." She taunted playfully, glancing up at him with an arch of her pierced eyebrow.

"Why? Do you not want it to be?" He teased back, but Emylee could feel the truth in his words, a slight tone of worry lying underneath his gentle joking.

"Well..." Emylee mused, tapping her pointer against her lips as if she were concentrating before breaking her other hand free of Rocco's, turning to face him before lifting herself onto the tips of her toes. She curled her fingers around fistfuls of his tight top, her lips mere millimetres from his as she spoke in a whisper. "I think I could go for a milkshake and Shakeaway makes amazing ones."

With that, she tore away from him, leaving his lips tingling nervously from the feel of her hot breath, his eyes practically the size of dinner plates in shock as she sauntered down the street. His eyes outlined her figure as her hips swung naturally, her alluring hourglass figure tantalising Rocco with each move as he watched her leave. She glanced over her shoulder, her bright scarlet locks falling over her heart-shaped face as her dark eyes glinted at him mischievously.

"Aren't you coming?" She beamed flirtatiously, finally regaining her outgoing persona as the nervousness regarding her evening with Rocco washed away when he regarded they time together as a _date_.

Soon she heard loud footsteps follow after her as she slipped into a small store with the words _Shakeaway _printed on the front in primary colours, Rocco entering moments after she did. The store was dimly lit, its walls lined with bars at which to sit whilst at the far end sat the cashier, several other staff busying themselves about the equipment hidden behind the cashier's desk. The place was empty as the duo entered apart from a few teenagers chatting obnoxiously loud amongst themselves, but this was to be expected just about anywhere on a Saturday night.

"Hello," Emylee greeted the cahier as she reached the counter with a charming smile, the man's pallid eyes widening in shock at her gorgeous figure. "Could I please have a large peanut M&Ms milkshake?"

"Of course," He replied, finally finding his voice as his eyes darted away from her voluptuous figure and adorable outfit, settling on the cash register to punch in her order. After the machine beeped in approval, his eyes glanced up at Rocco, his figure appearing behind Emylee, his shadow looming over her possessively. "And anything for your _friend_?"

"Well, what do you say, _friend_? Would you like anything?" She teased gently, Rocco simply shaking his head of dark tousled tangles in response.

"Only you." He purred, whispering into her ear before his eyes darted up to the cashier, his lips forming a smug smirk as he rested his hands on her hips.

"I guess that means you get nothing at all," She retorted, shaking her hips free of his hands before returning to the cashier, handing him a handful of coins. "That's all thank you, nothing in the slightest for my friend."

After returning her change, the cashier quickly ordered the others to whip up her order and within minutes her milkshake appeared before her, held within a tall cup of a lemon yellow and sapphire blue design. She grabbed it with a grin, thanking the workers once more before scurrying to the other end of the store and hopping up onto one of the stools. Rocco took the seat beside her, his well-built figure daunting over her far shorter, curvaceous one, the young teens casting many glances at the odd couple's way before whispering amongst themselves.

"Looks like we are the talk of the town," Emylee giggled before pressing her glossy lips to the straw protruding from her drink, taking a deep sip. "You're really missing out, I love these milkshakes."

"To tell you the truth, I'm not so big on cold drinks." It was not entirely a lie; blood was never cold, whether it was from a human or an animal.

"All the more for me then," She beamed, taking another gulp of her delectable drink before continuing. "So, you met my brother, tell me about your family."

Rocco arched his eyebrows at her in puzzlement, wondering what happened to the remainder of her family beyond her brother, but he easily noticed the warning gaze glinting through her eyes and swallowed his questions whole.

"My family here would be my friends, from the club. They have been my friends for life and we all came to America together."

"Why did you come to America?" She asked, but he knew she was now wondering what happened to his actual relatives.

"Well, we are all from Romania, and let's just say we were _not _happy there. So America seemed like the best option," He explained with a fond smile upon his lips. "All of our families are still in Romania though. I don't really have the best relationship with my parents; it's a very long story that is probably more boring than anything. The only salvation in all of my family is my little cousin, she is wonderful and far too young to understand the conflict between my parents and me, so she is sweet to everyone."

"She sounds adorable," Emylee admitted with a smile that soon became tinged with sadness. "I don't have any cousins. My parents didn't have any siblings. All I really have is my brother, who if you hadn't noticed can be quite the pain in the ass, and my friends."

She felt Rocco's cold flesh caress hers as his one of his hands rubbed the small of her back softly, the other cupping her hand gently. Suddenly, he paused, his ashen eyes narrowing sharply as his smile dropped, his lips pursing together. Emylee glanced up at him in confusion as his ears twitched before he rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath.

"It looks like we are being watched."

"What?" She blurted, suddenly feeling self-conscious as she glanced about frantically.

"Not by anyone dangerous," He grinned playfully, immediately washing away the dread that had been flooding over her. "But my friends seem to have decided not to respect my privacy for this date."

"Then maybe we should pay them a visit."


	11. Chapter Eleven

_**...**_

* * *

_**Chapter Eleven**_

A bat crept after the couple as they walked through the districts of Hipsterville, chatting amongst themselves with soft, flirtatious giggles, throwing one another admiring looks when the other was distracted. Izabela settled her bat form upon the vibrant sign of primary colours as Rocco and Emylee vanished into the milkshake parlour, seemingly undetected by her human comrade and her newly formed full-vampire date. Her dark emerald eyes narrowed, her keen hearing easily distinguishing the couple's conversation even in her diminished form as she hung from the sign, wrapping her small body in her gargantuan wings.

"Rocco can_not _be in _there_," A low-pitched yet feminine voice growled before blowing a plump bubble with the gum smacking about in her mouth and bursting it with a muffled _pop_. "We must've lost them somewhere down the way or maybe he left her in a ditch. He shouldn't be dating a human, it's revolting, whether we can feed on them or not."

"He's in there all right," A masculine voice retorted with a purr. "I can smell her delicious blood from a mile away. Rocco is _so _lucky, the bastard."

"_Claude_," A third voice scolded, the pitch somewhere between the deep one of Claude Sterling and the higher one of the gum-chewing female. "Stop giving Rocco reasons to try and kick your ass. And don't forget that your cousin is breathing down our necks about drinking from humans."

Izabela's dark orbs slid towards the trio as they sauntered towards the milkshake parlour, feeling her innards boil with irritation as they argued amongst themselves. Tripp was easily recognisable as the one who had been scolding Claude, his eyes narrowed into a glare of disapproval from behind his rectangular-rimmed glasses that glinted in the moonlight. His shorter, immensely thin frame was dressed in a pair of loose-fitting slacks that were held to his miniscule hips with an array of studded belts, the ends falling over a pair of combat boots, free of any studs or scars. A pale, button-down top hung about his torso, held to his shoulders by a pair of striped suspenders, pinned to the hem of his slacks.

Kat stood in between the two boys, her figure only slightly shorter than Tripp's, her height accentuated by the platforms of her ebony Mary Jane pumps. Her slender legs were slipped into a pair of laced hold-ups, their hems visible beneath the ruffled skirt of her violet and ebony corset dress which clung to her subtly curved figure, emphasizing her bust. Her short, dark chocolate hair fell about her face in a ruffled pixie cut, tones of black highlighting through it along with a pair of ebony devil horns that poked through her lopsided tangles, held in place tightly by a headband hidden beneath her various layers of hair. Her lips were coated in a layer of dark purple-coloured gloss, matching the colour of the gum that whipped about her mouth as she spoke.

Finally, Claude Sterling completed the trio, still lost in his thoughts of the alluring blood that pumped through Emylee's feeble veins, his deep brown eyes widened with glee at the hunger prancing through his psyche. His mop of wispy flaxen hair fell about his neck loosely, shorter fringes falling into his handsome, fair-skinned features. Strands of ebony were jetting out from the dark roots of his hair, revealing his true colour along with his need to reapply the platinum blonde colouring. A silver ring hugged the left of his plump bottom lip, twinkling impishly in the lights of the night sky, matching the mischievous look his eyes always carried.

His tall, athletic yet slender figure was dressed in a pair of skin-tight ebony jeans littered in rips, a black studded belt slipped through the loops, fastened with a silver buckle holding a skull and cross bones design, the ends stuffed into a pair of steel-toed combat boots that pounded over the pavement. His torso was compressed into a bright scarlet top, the neckline hazardously torn with a smeared vampire bat design upon the chest, above which he wore his signature dark leather jacket with spikes dotted along the shoulder blades.

"You three do not understand the concept of anonymity, do you?" Izabela sneered as she elegantly dropped to the ground, landing in her humanoid form without a single stumble. "Or at least volume control?"

A smirk danced across her pallid lips as she arched a pierced eyebrow at the trio mockingly. Her short figure was dressed in a black t-shirt dress with a bloodied design across the torso and a pair of perilously torn leggings that vanished into her worn-out converse shoes. She ran a leather glove-clad hand through her pinpoint straight jet black locks, settling them about her shoulder blade in an array of layers, ignoring the glares she received from the stunned vampires.

"What is _that _supposed to mean?" Kat snapped venomously.

"Well, you three are trying to 'spy' on Rocco, using the word spy _loosely_ that is yet you're all babbling loud enough to wake the bloody dead," She sneered back, folding her arms over her developed chest, mirroring Kat's stance. "And lusting over Emylee's blood is probably not something to advertise at such a volume."

"Why? Are you _jealous_?" Claude's lips curled into a smirk as he ruffled his fingers through his hair, his hands donned in several sterling silver rings. "You cannot deny that she is simply gorgeous, especially for a _human_."

"Actually, it's because _no one _is going to lay a single finger on her or else they will be facing the penalty of death." She replied calmly yet her words still dripping in malice.

"At your hands?" Kat scoffed with a roll of her dark eyes, blowing another obnoxious bubble with her gum.

"Would you like a demonstration?" Izabela taunted, a sadistic smile breaking out across her lips, revealing her extended canines. "I would be more than happy to oblige."

To anyone who did not know of her purebred vampiric origins, they would simply roll their eyes at her, finding it hard to find such a short figure to be threatening in the slightest. But the trio knew that such looks were deceiving and despite their transformation into full-fledged vampires, they had only held such a title for a few months, but she had held it from her first breath. Noticing their silence, Izabela's grin folded into a smirk of triumph.

"Oh I'm sorry, have I frightened the little trio of imitation vampires?" She prodded patronisingly.

"Why don't you just get off of your high horse, you raging bitch?" Claude snapped furiously, not bothering to contain the anger that bubbled up inside of him. Tripp rolled his eyes sighing in distress at his friend's outburst.

"Why don't you just leave _my _friend alone, you imbecilic bastard?" She hissed back, curling her hands into tight fists as she glared at Claude murderously, a look he easily shot back.

"Looks like I have arrived just in time for the show." A smug, familiar voice interrupted the commotion as the beholder sauntered out of the shadows, basking in the silver light of the shimmering moon.

The moonlight hugged Lucas' attractive face, sliding along his perfectly straight nose before outlining his thin lips as they twisted into a wicked smirk, the pair of silver rings pierced through either side of his bottom lip in a snake-bite style glinting darkly. His jet black, tinged dark sapphire locks fell about his paper white features in a scene-style, the streaks of dark purple running through his tangles emphasized by the moonlight. A pair of dark blue skinny jeans clung to his long legs, held to his waist by an array of bullet belts, sagging slightly about his tight rear that caught the lingering eyes of both sexes. His finely chiselled, athletic torso was compressed into a heavy metal band tee, the short sleeves revealing his toned arms along with a tattoo of a bleeding moon that clung to his right bicep. His almond-shaped violet orbs were narrowed seductively as he sauntered to Izabela's side, the soles of his Creepers gliding gently over the pavement.

"Oh great, the parade of stupid is now complete." Izabela muttered, gesturing from Lucas to the trio with an irritated frown.

"The more you taunt me, Izabela, the more I think those lips shouldn't be moving unless they are against mine," He teased, cupping her jaw in his long fingers adorned in silver rings engraved with designs of bats and slithering serpents. Suddenly he paused, his nostrils twitching as the smell that had encapsulated the other four now wafted through his body. "How perfect, I see you brought your delicious friend with you."

Izabela tore herself free from him as his dazed voice brushed over her, her eyes widening as she watched him grow aroused over the irresistible scent. She felt her hands instinctively thrust towards him, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt as she whipped his body round, slamming his back into the wall of the parlour, pinning him down forcefully. Her dark eyes narrowed into a glare once more as she bared her fangs at him furiously.

"I will _not _repeat myself again," She snarled. "Stay away from her _and _me."

"You cannot have her all to yourself," Lucas corrected. "Such beautiful blood is simply begging to be shared."

"Will you just get this through your thick head? _I_ will not have her blood,_ you _will not have her blood, _no one _will have her blood," Izabela curled one of her hands around his throat tightly, her final threat rolling off of her tongue maliciously. "And if you even _think _of stepping near her, I will tear your throat right open–"

Suddenly she stopped, her ears twitching as her eyes widened. Lucas smirked at her, his elfin ears identifying what had paralysed her body with eased.

"I don't need to step near her, when she will come so willingly to me." He whispered before vanishing beneath her grip, a sleek vampire bat taking his place.

Izabela quickly followed suit, reluctantly perching herself alongside Lucas upon the building as its entrance peeled open, revealing Emylee and Rocco's figures, their fingers laced together tightly.

"What are you three doing here?" Rocco grunted with a frown, clearly irritated that his date had been interrupted.

"We were just passing by." Kat muttered back, clearly irked by the bright-haired human's presence.

"Oh really? That's great," He mumbled sarcastically, his grey eyes glancing down at Emylee as she smiled softly up at him. "Emylee, these are my friends, you met them at the club last night."

"I remember," She admitted, her charming smile shifting to them, her voluptuous figure earning hungry stares from Tripp and Claude once again whilst Kat sneered at her enviously. "How are you three doing?"

"W-w-w-we a-a-a-are–" Tripp stumbled over his words nervously, completely in awe of her beautiful appearance.

"We're wonderful," Claude completed charismatically. "Would you two like to join us for the evening?"

"That'd be amazing!" Emylee exclaimed as Rocco stared down at her, wide-eyed in disbelief.

"Really? Are you sure you want to spend the night with my friends?"

"Yeah, of course, I'd love to get to know these three, especially after all that babbling on about them you've been doing."

"You talk about us?" Claude blurted in disbelief before grinning slyly and pinching Rocco's cheek with a condescending tone in his voice. "That's _so_ sweet."

"Just do me a favour, Emylee," Rocco whispered to her, pulling her figure closer to his as he slipped an arm around her tiny waist. "Try and still like my company after spending time with my friends."

"I wouldn't worry about that," She soothed, squeezing his free hand tightly. "I already _love _your company."


	12. Chapter Twelve

WOO! I think I'm back on track with this. (: Which brings me a lot of joy. Bah I have tonsillitis through, which isn't so fun. xD But I've had it for ages, some chronic-y thing, so I guess I'm used to it. PLUS STAYING INSIDE ALL DAY GIVES ME MORE TIME TO WRITE! 83

* * *

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Emylee held her notebook tightly to her chest as she leant against her locker, tilting her head back, allowing her various layers of blood red to pour along her back as a gleeful smile spread across her full rosy lips. Her dark sienna eyes slipped shut as her heart fluttered in her chest, electrifying her nerves with delight at the memory of her weekend with Rocco. She felt as giddy as a schoolgirl over her first crush, barely able to contain her delight as she spent time with him and his comrades, allowing her bubbly persona to seep through. As soon as she got home, she scrambled to her room, grabbed her mobile phone and dialled Izabela's number. She spent hours rambling on about the evening, unable to contain her excitement as to when she would see him again as well as her gratitude to Izabela for relieving her of any doubts regarding going on a date with the mysterious Rocco.

"Having fun, Emy?" Lilith's enquiry broke her train of thought; her eyes tearing open to glance at her taller comrade whose eyebrows were arched down at her curiously.

Her persimmon orange locks bounced about her jaw in an array of curls, revealing the undertone of ebony that hid beneath her short, vibrant locks, framing her olive-skinned features. Her slender form was dressed in a printed tee and a ruffled tutu skirt accompanied by a pair of striped tights, her feet slipped into a pair of dark flats. Her bright emerald eyes were narrowed at Emylee suspiciously as they sat either side of the staple piercing along the bridge of her nose, which mirroring the bar pierced through her right cheek in an anti-brow fashion.

"I was just thinking," Emylee replied with a shrug, forcing a monotonous expression over her heart-shaped face to shroud her overexcitement as she turned to face her sticker-encased locker. "You should try it sometime, Lils."

She peeled the door open, slowly stuffing her notebook inside whilst snatching the notes she needed for additional work as Lilith slipped to her side, leaning against the locker adjacent to hers, her suspicious look not faltering.

"So I guess Saturday night went well." She teased with a knowing grin, prodding Emylee in the ribs with a spidery finger.

"What do you mean?" Emylee blurted in confusion, shaking her side-swept bangs out of her eyes as she titled her head up to fully glance at Lilith.

"I mean I've never seen you _this _excited over a_ boy_."

"Who said I was excited over anything? Especially Rocco, Lils." She retorted with a roll of her thicky-rimmed eyes.

"Oh give it up," Lilith exclaimed with a roll of her eyes, clearly not buying the lies that Emylee was spinning. "You haven't stopped grinning since I saw you Saturday morning, even with what happened with Damien."

"I'd rather we didn't talk about _that_," Emylee hissed, gripping the door to her locker tightly as she shifted her utensils into her tote bag. "But if you must know, I did have an amazing time with Rocco. I even got to meet his friends from the club properly and spend time with them too."

"But his friends don't compare to us, do they?" Lilith joked before her tone became one of curiosity. "Besides I thought you weren't one for dating, Emy?"

"I haven't been so far," She explained with another shrug of her shoulders as Lilith continued to gaze at her with interest. "But, as weird as this sounds, I really had fun with Rocco and I'm not looking for options to be with anyone else. And thinking about it now, I'm pretty sure I would try and kill him if he was out with another girl, I want him to be only mine."

"So you really like this guy? Despite that he's practically double your height, you midget."

"I really, really do," Emylee beamed with a smile. "Plus his build is a good thing; he's the first guy I've met who may be able to take on the wrath of Emylee Rusking, despite my height."

"That's great," Lilith grinned, combing a stray ringlet of hair out of her pleased expression. "It's about time you've had a relationship, Miss Rusking."

"You're one to talk." She retorted, but Lilith simply stuck out her tongue playfully in response before the duo were interrupted by a panting figure darting out of the horde of students shifting through the halls aimlessly during their lunch hour.

Sabrina McGue waved manically at the pair, her hair bouncing about her waist in a waterfall of shimmering golden looks, her crystal blue eyes bright with excitement as she bounded towards them. Her figure was dressed in an ivory blouse and a pair of white wash shorts, her fair colouring just as innocent and pure as Sabrina herself, who was possibly the only seventeen-year-old girl able to be everyone's friend with a genuine smile on her rose petal lips.

"Hello you two." She beamed cheerfully, even more so than normal.

"Hey, Sabrina, why so euphoric?" Lilith enquired, cocking her head to the side in puzzlement.

"Well, the last few days of summer are here and we're having a _huge _party at the beach this weekend," She explained, her smile widening with each word. "And we're inviting the whole grade, so I just wanted to give you the information and try and prod you into coming."

"Who is _'we'_?" Emylee murmured sceptically.

"A bunch of kids from our grade, we just thought it'd be nice. Especially as this is our last year together before everyone goes off to university.," Sabrina presented a slip of paper to the two, the information scribbled upon it in flawless cursive writing that she specialised in. "So will you two come?"

"Sure," Emylee replied with a smile, ignoring the dumbfounded stare Lilith shot at her. "Is it all right if I invite a few people from out of school? No one dangerous or anything, just a few good friends."

"Of course, not only is the beach public property, but I think the more the merrier." Sabrina exclaimed before bidding the pair fair well and vanishing back into the crowd of students, dispersing further invites to anyone she could find within their grade.

"So I guess we're going to this then," Lilith muttered. "I would've liked some consultation."

"Well, you don't have to go if you don't want to," She challenged, folding up the sheet Sabrina had given them and slipping it into the pocket of her skin-tight jeans for safe keeping. "But I think it'll be a lot of fun. Plus I _love _the beach and we've barely gone this summer at all."

"Who are you planning on bringing from out of school then?"

"I'm not sure, I figured Iz might want to come," Emylee replied before a small, sly smile crept across her lips. "And I was thinking I could give Rocco a ring and see what he says."

"I get it," Lilith chuckled, rubbing her hands together mischievously as she explained her theory. "You want to invite him to the beach so _he_ will officially ask _you _out."

"What? No. Don't be absurd, Lils." Emylee retorted, but her friend simply waved her protests away in dismissal.

"It'll be a romantic night, out on the beach, under the sunset, in your _bikini_," She continued, eyeing Emylee suspiciously. "He'll find it hard to resist. You are quite the schemer, Emy, I never took you for such an evil mastermind."

"You can shut up now," Emylee snarled as she swung her tote bag over her shoulder. "I just want to spend time with Rocco, that's all."

As she slammed the door to her locker shut, she felt her heart skip a beat as she nearly leapt out of her own skin in fright at the tall figure previously hidden behind her locker door. Wispy golden tangles framing his handsome, sun-kissed face as his dark azure blue eyes narrowed at Emylee, their flecks of ivory twinkling hungrily. His chiselled form was compressed into a tight-fitting white top and a pair of monstrously expensive darkly coloured jeans that anyone could see came from a designer label.

"Who's Rocco?" Aiden sneered, closing the distance between their two figures as he pressed himself against her closed locker. "Don't tell me someone dared to try and take my Emylee away?"

"I'm not anyone's Emylee, especially yours," She hissed with a frown. "And hasn't anyone taught you that it's rude to eavesdrop?"

"Maybe you should teach me some manners," He murmured suggestively before bringing his face mere centimetres from hers. "Or are you just as naughty as me?"

"Fuck off, Aiden," She growled, pushing his features away from hers forcefully, her aggravation multiplying with each passing moment. "I'm not in the mood for any bullshit today."

"Yet you are so willing to talk to Snow." He taunted, glaring at Lilith with a smug smirk.

"Why don't you just go play in traffic, Aiden?" Lilith barked furiously, grabbing hold of Emylee's hand tightly and leading her away from Aiden. "Or better yet, make it much easier for everyone and go jump off of a cliff."

"I wasn't done here," He intercepted, grasping hold of Emylee's free hand with cat-like reflexes. "You can just stay out of _our _business, Snow."

"_We_ don't have _any _business." Emylee corrected, trying to tug herself free from his tight grasp.

"Eastwood, cool the hell down and leave them alone," Emylee felt her eyebrows knit together at the familiar male voice, her gaze darting up to see Damien standing before them, irritating in his pale eyes. "Coach wants a word with you."

"Can't you tell him that I'm a little bit busy, Grey?"

"_I_ could tell him that and _you_ could get your ass thrown off the team." Damien snapped as Aiden sighed in defeat, releasing his grip on Emylee's arm.

"I'll find you later, Emylee," He whispered before stalking away from the commotion. "This had better be good or it's your head, Grey."

With that final sneer, Aiden vanished into the crowd. Damien's shoulders slumped forward, his tensed muscles now relaxing as he brushed his dark chocolate tangles out of his pierced features, glancing at the duo with a smile.

"How are you two doing?" He squeaked.

"You didn't need to do that; I can take care of that prick by myself." Emylee muttered, still irked over the cruel words he had slung her way a few nights ago.

"But thanks for helping us out," Lilith corrected, shooting Emylee a warning glare as she spoke. "Are you going to the party on Friday?"

"Depends," He mumbled. "Are you guys?"

"We are, but..." Emylee's voice trailed off as she felt Lilith's grasp on her arm tighten, her friend staring at her pleadingly. "_But_ I'm also inviting a few people from out of school. You should come though, Damien, it'll be a lot of fun."

* * *

"Now I don't want to offend you, but what is with the outfit?" Emylee enquired, gesturing towards Izabela as the duo strolled through the streets of Hipsterville later that afternoon.

Izabela glanced down at her clothing choice as well before smiling nervously. Her legs were slipped into a pair of skinny jeans, the ends stuffed into a pair of scuffed up combat boots. A loose-fitting, jet black sweatshirt hung about her torso, the sleeves running far passed her fingertips and the hood slipped over her head, shadowing her fair features and long ebony locks, practically preventing a single ray of sunlight from reaching her pallid skin. To complete her look, a pair of incredibly dark sunglasses perched upon her nose, shadowing her dark jade eyes.

"I'm going for the whole Scott Summers look," She joked before glancing up at the darkening sky and excusing her actions. "I just thought it was going to rain so I wore a hooded jumper."

"You thought it was going to rain yet you brought sunglasses?" Emylee replied with an arch of her eyebrows. Izabela simply nodded with a shrug of her shoulders. "You are quite weird, Iz."

"I won't argue with you there."

The two soon approached a row of shops with tinted windows, their walls covered in jet black paper with gothic designs, racks of clothes ranging from gothic to punk held within. Emylee felt her lips spread into a grin at the sight of the shops.

"Looks like we're here," She beamed, linking her arm through Izabela's. "Although I _still _can't believe you don't own any sort of swimwear."

"No one really swims in England," Izabela explained for the umpteenth time, yet Emylee still refused to believe her. "The weather is seriously shit. Unless you have an indoor pool, swimming is not something everyone enjoys."

"Fine, fine, fine, whatever you say." She replied dismissively.

"Why do I need swimwear anyway? I won't be taking any dips in the ocean," Izabela protested, earning herself an eye roll from her comrade. "I'll just safely remain on dry land."

"You need it because you may want to swim someday, especially with how hot the summers can get here," Emylee stated in a matter-of-fact tone as she dragged Izabela towards the shop she spent the majority of her daylight hours over the summer in. "Plus you'll be glad you have a bikini even if you are just sitting around on the beach."

"A bikini? Now I have to expose myself to all your classmates?"

"It's not _exposing _yourself," She hissed, pushing Izabela forcefully through the threshold of the shop, a cool breeze from the air conditioning rushing over them. "You have a wonderful body and it will compliment it. I'll be wearing one, Lilith will be wearing one, every girl will be wearing one. There's nothing wrong with it."

"If every girl walked around like tarts, would you expect me to do it too?" Izabela challenged.

"Only if I did it," Emylee joked before tugging Izabela to a halt before a rack of darkly coloured swimwear. "Here we are, take your pick."

"Why am I even going to this party on Friday?" She whined once again as she sifted through the hanging bikinis in disinterest.

"Because it's going to be fun, how many times do I have to say this?" Emylee growled as she glanced at a few wristbands curiously. "Besides, if you get bored, you can yell at Rocco's friends, if he decides to bring them."

"They might be coming now? How brilliant," Izabela snapped sarcastically. "God, I hate you, Em."

"Shut up, you love me and the both of us know it," She retorted confidently, her gaze now shifting to the newly arrived rack of sunglasses. "Why do you hate them so much anyway? You barely know them."

"And? You barely know them as well." Izabela muttered childishly.

"Yeah, but they seemed really great on Saturday night and Rocco is amazing," Emylee explained as she continued to busy herself about the store, waiting to Izabela to pick out her swimwear. "So why wouldn't his friends be amazing too?"

"I can think of a million reasons why they wouldn't be." She hissed under her breath, but Emylee easily heard it.

"Then explain them to me." Emylee suggested.

"I can't," Izabela sighed in defeat before snatching a few bikinis off of the line, seeking Emylee's approval on them.

"They're nice, I like that one the most," She gestured to the one in the middle as Izabela nodded in agreement. "And why can't you explain it to me, Iz?"

"Because you'll regret asking me that if I _do _explain it to you so it's really not worth discussing. Just trust me, it's really complicated and let's just leave it at that."


	13. Chapter Thirteen

I find Emylee's bikini, well the top at least, sounds really cool. And I wish I had one. xD Hehehe. Just because it looks so cool, I'd probably never wear it because as I said, NO ONE SWIMS IN ENGLAND. Anyway, enjoy. ^^

* * *

_**Chapter Thirteen**_

Izabela fumbled about the small bathroom that was hidden within the corner of the Rusking apartment, reluctantly slipping off her clothes and replacing them with the bikini her friend had helped her pick out. For the first time, as she climbed into the bikini, settling it about her curves, she found herself mentally cursing her lack of reflection. Never before had she wanted to see herself as others did, to glance over her choice of clothing and ensure it suited her figure. The more she cursed her reflection–or lack thereof–the more insecure she became over wearing the swimwear, although she knew she would have hell to pay from Emylee if she stalked out of the bathroom in her regular clothing.

It had taken her a while to get out of her house, delaying both her and Emylee's arrival to the party organised at the beach. Her parents were not pleased to hear she was going out _again_, especially as they had invited the Drakov family over for drinks once again. But, Izabela was _not _interested in spending a single second in Lucas and his parents' company, so she quickly excused herself, insisting she had extremely important business to attend to. She knew Lucas would not dare reveal the truth of her whereabouts to her parents, as he was well-aware that–like the rest of them–her evening would be spent in the company of a vibrant-haired human. However, Izabela had her own information safely tucked under her belt, for she knew that Lucas desired said human, despite no possibility of her consenting to being turned on sacred ground–in fact, there was no possibility Izabela would even let her know of the existence of vampires–and this was something his parents would not approve of.

"Iz, hurry up!" Emylee shouted through the bathroom door, startling the vampire from her thoughts with a violent slam of her fist against the threshold.

"I'm almost ready," Izabela replied, stuffing her clothes into her messenger bag before tearing the door open, revealing her bikini to Emylee as a look of aggravation spread across her fair features. "Great, I feel completely exposed."

Her curvaceous figure was dressed in a jet black bikini, the strings of the top and bottoms clipped with silver vampire fang-styled buckles, completely exposing the dips and curves of her flawless hourglass figure. Her long ebony locks fell free about her shoulder blades in an array of layers, her side-swept bangs skimming above her dark emerald eyes, a violet undertone seeping through the dark slanted fringe. Her pointed ears were now littered with studs that matched the bar threaded through her right eyebrow.

"You look _great_," Emylee exclaimed as Izabela simply folded her arms over her chest with a frown, accentuating her developed chest inadvertently. "And doing that just makes everything far more visible."

"This is why I hate bikinis." Izabela muttered, slipping her feet into her black and white checked flats before tugging on her loose-fitting charcoal hooded sweatshirt, the hem ending along her mid-thigh, shadowing her exposed fair flesh.

"But they suit you so well," Emylee teased. "You've got the body for one."

"Well, you would know, Em." She replied, gesturing towards the human with a smirk.

Emylee's blood scarlet tangles were pulled back into a messy bun, styled with a raven feathers, tones of dark fuchsia erupting from the roots of her hair as many of her hazardous layers fell free of the tie to frame her heart-shaped face. Her up-do exposed the various piercings aligning the crevices of her ears in an array of tapers, industrial bars, and studs. Her mischievous dark chocolate eyes were rimmed with thick waterproof charcoal that flicked out at the edges in a feline fashion as the ebony stud clinging to her eyebrow mirrored that pierced above her plump, glossy lips. A diamond stud poked through her nostril, matching the one slipped through her navel revealed by her bikini.

The top of her swimwear was styled akin to a pair of ebony bat wings jetting out from the centre of her chest, spreading out over her ample breasts with strings slipped around her back and soft neck. The bottoms were a similar colour, covered by a pair of monstrously torn white wash shorts hand cut from a pair of skin-tight jeans that exposed the tattoo of a blooming Japanese bud that clung to the small of her back in a _tramp stamp _fashion with a design of vines cascading towards her hips. Her feet were slipped into a pair of worn-out ballet flats as a loose, faded ivory cardigan hung from her shoulders, shadowing her voluptuous figure.

"Well hopefully Rocco will like it," Emylee beamed, slipping her tote bag over her shoulder, stuffed to the brim with supplies for the beach party. "C'mon, Lilith and Damien are waiting downstairs."

"Why are you speaking to him again?" Izabela enquired as she was shooed out of the apartment, Emylee slipping the door shut behind them with a click of the lock.

"Because Lilith would've killed me if I wasn't the first one to speak," She explained, blowing a stray strand of scarlet out of her eyes as she spoke. "We're both as stubborn as each other, so sometimes when we fight, one of us has to swallow our pride and speak first, or else Lilith loses it and goes on a rampage."

"But he was acting like a bastard," Izabela growled with a frown at the memory as they made their way down the concrete stairs of the apartment block. "You should not have had to be the one to swallow said pride."

"He does it most of the time, so it was time I acted like the mature one," Emylee stated with a shrug of her shoulders. "Besides, if you and I were fighting, I would consider swallowing my pride to make things better, wouldn't you?"

"Well it depends." Izabela mused.

"On what?"

"On if I'm right or not," She replied as if it were the obvious answer. "You see, if I'm right then I'll just have to wait for you to apologise. But if I'm wrong, then I'll happily do it."

"Somehow, I don't imagine you thinking you're wrong very often." Emylee murmured eyeing Izabela doubtfully as they exited the building, the humid evening air flooding over them as the sun settled along the horizon, electrifying the darkened sky with highlights of indigo and sapphire.

"Or maybe I'm just not wrong very often," Izabela corrected as they made their way towards the scuffed up van awaiting them, Damien sat in the driver's seat, craning his neck to glare at his watch impatiently. "Take this bikini for example, I said I would end up exposing myself, you said no, and low and behold, I'm exposing myself."

"You're not exposing yourself, Iz, and stop saying it like that, it sounds like you're walking around topless or something," Emylee growled the sound of her irritated voice making Damien's head snap up and send the van roaring into life. "I still maintain that you look amazing."

"Who looks amazing?" Lilith enquired, tearing the door open as the pair approached.

Her tall, slim figure was dressed in a bright orange ruffled tutu skirt, nearly as bright as her vibrant hair, which revealed the queen of hearts card tattooed onto her left hip along with a white bikini dotted in miniature black skulls. Her persimmon locks were parted down the middle, each section tied up in one of the two buns sitting on either side of her head whilst the jet black undertone to her jaw length tangles was left to hang free, framing her olive-skinned face. Her bright green orbs were rimmed with thick eyeliner and her staple piercing clung to the bridge of her nose tightly, matching the anti-brow pierced through her right upper cheek.

"Izabela does," Emylee stated as she helped the vampire in question climb into her allocated seat in the back of the worn-out van. "Except she's convinced she's too exposed."

"Well I think you _both_ look great," Lilith beamed, slipping back into her own seat with a grin dancing across her full lips. "Don't you agree, Damien?"

Damien cleared his throat awkwardly, shifting about in the driver's seat nervously before pressing his combat boot-clad foot down on the pedals, forcing the van out of its parked position. His dark hair fell about his stern expression in a well-layered mop, faded bright emerald highlights clinging to his locks as he concentrated on the road, pondering his response to the question at hand. A dark tee hung about his slender torso, the logo of a heavy metal band printed on the chest, the short sleeves revealing the array of tattoos trailing up his arms. A pair of plain, jet black board shorts fell to his knees, tied tightly to fit his slim hips.

"My parents told me never to tell women what they want to hear," He joked, his snake-bite pierced lips curling into a smile. "They'll use the compliments against you in the future."

"Just shut up and drive, Damien," Emylee replied, slapping her hand around the back of his head as he turned to glance at her. "And concentrate on the road, not us."

He rolled his eyes but obeyed, Izabela eyeing him cautiously, still desiring nothing more than to slam his head into the dashboard as vengeance for his venomous words to Emylee the previous week. As they neared the beach, a voice broke Izabela from her sour thoughts towards the driver.

"Cheer up, Iz," Emylee piped, noticing her narrowed glare. "We're almost there."

"How wonderful," She murmured, ruffling her fingers through her side-swept bangs as she spoke. "When is your boyfriend to be arriving?"

"Soon," Emylee beamed in response, visibly giddy at the thought of seeing Rocco again. "He just has to finish work at the bar and see if his friends want to come."

"What are his friends like?" Lilith enquired, her expression perking up with interest.

"The two guys were really nice," She replied with a shrug. "But the girl, Kat, was still quite hostile."

"I didn't mean personality wise, I meant are his friends _cute_?" She corrected sheepishly, nudging Emylee in the ribs gently with her elbow.

"They were with him at the club last weekend," Emylee stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "So you tell me if they're cute."

"I don't remember seeing them, so I guess this is like a surprise," Lilith grinned, rubbing her hands together impishly. "This should be an exciting party."

"Oh trust me, it won't be," Izabela intercepted, her upper lip twitching with a snarl. "Rocco's friends are _nothing _special apart from frightfully irritating. You should count your blessings if they don't turn up."

"Finally, someone speaks some truth." Damien piped in approval of her statement as he slid his van into a parking space cautiously.

"Ignore these two, his friends aren't that bad," Emylee hissed as the van jolted to a halt. "And I'm sure these two will agree with me after spending a more relaxed evening around Rocco and his friends."

"I never said I have a problem with Rocco," Izabela stated, although she was not exactly in approval of his vampire status, but that was not something she could simply blurt out to Emylee without revealing herself as a creature as well. "His friends just irk the hell out of me."

"All of them irk the hell out of me." Damien muttered as he climbed out of the van, sweeping towards the back doors and tearing them open for the trio of girls to exit.

Izabela clambered out of the car with Emylee and Lilith, tugging her sweatshirt about her figure, shadowing her exposing paper-white flesh. The sun had nearly vanished beneath the horizon as they approached the beach, the darkened sky littered in a sprinkling of twinkling stairs and a silver slipper of a moon grinning down at them with a glow. The golden brown beach was illuminated by an array of torches set up by the partygoers, giving it a tropical aura along with the swimwear-clad gyrating bodies of the attendees. Emylee and her friends quickly set up a few towels as other attendees had done for when the atmosphere became more relaxed, Izabela simply dumping her messenger bag onto the plain ebony towel she had claimed as her own. A gargantuan sound system had been set up along the centre of the beach, blasting out various types of music, most of which were not even slightly fitting to Izabela's taste.

"I know most of these kids don't have the best taste in music," Emylee piped as if reading her dark-haired companion's thoughts, linking their arms together with a smile on her rosy lips. "But you'll be surprised at how much fun this will be."

"We're going to find some food," Lilith announced, gesturing from Damien to herself before patting a hand over her flat stomach. "I'm fucking starving."

"We'll come find you two later." Damien added over his shoulder as he was dragged away by his olive-skinned comrade in search of the source of the delectable aroma that hung about the beach.

"I should've known that some of the guys in my grade would set up a barbeque," Emylee muttered, referring to the smell that seemed to entice the many humans whilst making Izabela sick to her stomach at the stench of well-cooked meat. "I shouldn't have eaten earlier."

"Unlike most people, I like my meat rare, so I'm pretty glad I've already fed myself," She replied with a shrug, noticing Emylee's free hand retrieve her mobile from her pocket, checking it anxiously. "You know a watched pot never boils, right?"

"I know, I know, I'm just impatient." She muttered, stuffing her mobile back into her shorts with a frown.

"Well, did Rocco give you any idea when he'd get here?"

"Oh yes, Emylee, when will your little boyfriend get here? I'd simply _love _to meet him." A masculine voice sneered from behind the pair, Emylee growling before whipping Izabela and herself around to face the speaker.

The boy's lips curled into a smirk as his dark sapphire eyes scanned Emylee's figure, a sudden stench flooding over Izabela as his blood began to rush with ecstasy over the bright-haired human. Wispy sandy blonde tangles fell about his sun-kissed face in a well-combed mop and his athletic form was dressed only in a pair of Hawaiian print board shorts, exposing his chiselled chest.

"Go away, Aiden," Emylee snapped with a roll of her eyes, tightening her grip on Izabela's arm, breaking her from her daze over the boy's revoltingly pungent blood. "_We_ don't have time for your bullshit."

"And who might _we _be?" He replied, arching an eyebrow at Izabela before returning his hungry gaze to the subject of his arousal.

As soon as his eyes returned to Emylee, his heartbeat quickened so hastily that Izabela thought he might pass out as the blood in his body darted towards a _certain _area.

"We are none of your business," Izabela hissed, noticing Emylee's growing aggravation at the male's presence. "And calm the hell down, she's just wearing swimwear. Or is your excitement because this is the closest you've ever gotten to seeing a girl naked?"

Emylee burst into snorts of laughter as the male that she had referred to as Aiden snapped his gaze towards Izabela, his eyebrows knitting together as he glared at her angrily.

"What did you say?" He snarled, trying to hide the scarlet colour that was gathering on his cheeks with embarrassment.

"I'm saying you might not want to go swimming anytime soon as if the sight of Em like this makes your heartbeat _that_ fast," She retorted with false sincerity. "Then seeing her whilst swimming might just make you pass out and drown. Not that I have a problem with imbeciles drowning, but it might put a damper on the party."

Emylee buckled over with giggles at her comrade's words, wrapping her arms around her waist as she struggled to calm herself.

"God I love you, Iz," She panted in-between chuckles, only increasing Aiden's humiliation. "And I'm so glad I brought you tonight."

"I thought you were bringing _Rocco _with you tonight," Aiden sneered, his embarrassed expression now twisting with malice. "Yet there seems to be an absence of anyone with you apart from this smarmy bitch."

"Oh just piss off, Aiden," Emylee spat, protectively linking her arm through Izabela's once again before pulling her cardigan closed over her figure with a sneer. "And keep your eyes up here because all of this," –She gestured to her shrouded figure–"will _never _be yours."

"Just admit the truth, Emylee," He continued defiantly. "You're just playing hard to get. After all, why else would you make up a boy other than to make me jealous?"

"_Make up a boy_?" She rolled her eyes with a scoff. "You think I made Rocco up?"

"I don't think, I _know_." He corrected.

"Whatever, think what you want, I don't care," She muttered before tugging Izabela away from the scene. "C'mon Iz, let's find the others."

"Just admit it, Rocco is _not _real."

As Aiden's words rolled off of his tongue, Emylee suddenly felt a strong arm wrap around her waist, pulling her away from Izabela with ease. Her curvaceous body collided with a muscled one, the owner narrowing his ashen orbs into a murderous glower at Aiden as he tightened his grip on Emily possessively.

"I'm not real, you say?" Rocco snarled, dropping his gaze to Emylee's heart-shaped face, his glare becoming a soft look of affection. "Then how can I do _this_?"

With that, Rocco ducked his head, his tender lips meeting Emylee's lovingly, darkening the glare of his blonde-haired human rival.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Oh gosh! I'm so excited for the chapter after this! Eee! I want to start writing it now... But I have to finish this one first... Hehehe. Sadly I have to go to bed soon for a doctor's appointment tomorrow so I probably won't get the exciting chapter fifteen out until tomorrow. Grrr. Well, enjoy anyway.

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_**Chapter Fourteen**_

Emylee reluctantly withdrew her lips from Rocco's, her heart fluttering erratically about her chest, sending her mind into a vertigo of exhilaration as his kiss lingered on her rose petal lips. Her dark chocolate orbs darted up to meet his ashen ones, her cheeks tinged crimson with bashfulness. Rocco's tall figure wore a pair of pinstripe ebony and ashen board shorts that fell to his knees and a button-down jet black top, the buttons left unbuttoned to bask his milky white, perfectly chiselled torso in a silver pool of moonlight along with the spiked collar threaded around his neck. His tousled mop of ebony locks were hidden beneath a dark grey beanie, various strands flicking out about his ears, revealing the gauges poked through his lobes.

Emylee felt her gaze trace down his features as the moonlight hugged them, highlighting his well-defined cheeks, tracing along his strong jaw, before settling on his plump lips. She felt a smile dance across her own lips, hungry for the heat of his kiss to flood over her once more. She cupped his cheek gently with her hand, lifting herself onto the tips of her toes, leaning her body into hers.

"So _this _is the bastard you're interested in?"

The sneer interrupted the pair, their lips mere millimetres apart. Emylee felt a frown spread across her features, her eyebrows knitting together darkly over her glaring eyes as she craned her neck towards Aiden, irritation bubbling up inside of her.

"How many times do I have to tell you that this is none of your business?" She snapped furiously at the golden-haired schoolboy. "Just piss off, Aiden."

"Why? Afraid I'll scare your little boyfriend away?" He replied with a smirk, lifting his chin into the air with an aura of superiority about him. "I'm pretty sure I'd be doing everyone a favour if I did, especially _you_."

"Who is this prick?" Rocco enquired gently to Emylee but with an edge to his voice as his grip on her miniscule waist tightened. "And why is he under the impression that any of us are interested in what he has to say?"

"Because he's an opinionated twat." She replied curtly, feeling her own smirk form across her lips at Aiden's growing fury as they dismissed his words carelessly.

"And this guy is fucking freak," Aiden announced, gesturing towards Rocco with a snarl. "He might as well be in a circus with those friends of his," His gesture now extended to Rocco's trio of friends who stood behind him, chatting amongst themselves. "And he doesn't have the right to touch _my _Emylee."

"She's not _your _anything." Rocco growled animally, baring his teeth lividly.

"She's more mine than yours," Aiden taunted, unaware of the danger of waving such information in Rocco's enraged features. "I have access to her _every_ day."

The notion made Rocco's fury amplify, his hands curling into strong fists as he glared the human down, his friends sharing his glower, their enhanced hearing easily picking up the boy's rude comments. Emylee glanced about herself at the commotion, noticing Izabela's worried expression shifting from Rocco to Aiden. She felt her gut twist, unaware as to _why_ her comrade was so anxious, but feeling the anxiety flood over her figure as well.

"Rocco," Emylee soothed in a shaky voice, the worry of her tone snapping him from his daze of rage. "Please just leave it."

"But he's being a dick to all of us." He challenged, earning himself a roll of her eyes, a stern expression spreading across her fair, heart-shaped face.

"He is _always _a dick and he isn't worth your time." She scolded.

"But when he speaks to you–"

"I can take care of myself, plus starting a fight won't exactly lead to a fun evening with you after you get thrown off the plot," She hissed before shifting her glare back to Aiden and snapping at him for the final time that evening. "And anyway, if I wanted to kick his ass, I could. He's just not worth it."

With her expression softening, Emylee slipped her hand into Rocco's, lacing their fingers together, his fury evaporating immediately. The pair turned their backs on Aiden, sauntering away from him until the sound of footsteps following after them flooded over Emylee, halting her in her tracks as she turned on her heel, whipping Rocco around with her to snarl at their follower.

"For god's sake, just leave me alone!" She snapped, coming face-to-face with the wide-eyed expressions of Rocco's friends, Izabela stalking behind them with a frown that quickly became a gawk of confusion at Emylee's outburst. "Oh, sorry, I thought you were Aiden..."

"That's perfectly all right, Miss Rusking," Claude charmed charismatically, his deep sienna eyes skimming over her scantily clad figure with a flash of desire running through them. "You look magnificent tonight."

Emylee felt her cheeks flush deep scarlet nervously as she shuffled closer to Rocco's figure, unsure of how to respond to his words. Rocco rolled his eyes, slapping his strong hand around the back of Claude's head warningly whilst squeezing Emylee's hand possessively.

"Calm down, Rocco, I was just being polite." He excused himself, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly as an impish smirk spread across his shapely lips.

Claude's mop of wispy platinum blonde locks fell loosely about the nape of his neck, tones of ebony jetting out from his roots, seeping through the faux flaxen colouring. His athletic figure was compressed into a slim-fit black tee and a pair of scarlet and ebony plaid, skin-tight jeans, the ends stuffed into a pair of scuffed up combat boots. Emylee could not help but wonder why he so willingly wound Rocco up over her as, although their figures were practically matched in height, Rocco was definitely far more built and appeared as if he could easily crush Claude if he desired. Yet, Claude still continued irking his comrade, running his tongue over the silver ring that clung to the left side of his bottom lip at the site of Emylee, earning himself a furiously possessive glare from Rocco.

Kat stood beside Claude, her inky black eyes narrowed into an envious glare at Emylee yet her plump, ebony-coloured lips formed an emotionless straight line as she folded her arms over her chest in a facade of disinterest. She wore a pair of black and white striped tights along with a tight-fitting dress that clung to her torso, accentuating her bust before dipping into a skirt that bounced about her legs in an array of ruffles. She sported her trademark devil horned headband in her dark, pixie cut hair as well as a piece of gum bouncing about her mouth.

Finally, the duo were flanked by the final member of their quartet, Tripp. He was dressed in a pair of slacks along with a button-down shirt slipped beneath a black waistcoat decorated in a design of ivory cobwebs. His naturally flaxen hair was slicked back out of his thin face apart from the bangs sweeping along his forehead, framing his pallid face along with the rectangular-rimmed glasses perched upon his nose. The buds of a pair of earphones were pressed into his ears, drowning out the conversation of those around him as an expression of disinterest clung to his features.

Looking at the trio and their choice of outfits, Emylee could not help but assume that, like Izabela, swimming was not their idea of fun–along with the beach judging from their paper-white appearances. She began to wonder if Rocco shared such an opinion, only opting to wear swimwear for her benefit. She was touched by the thought, but felt guilt form a pit in her stomach at the idea that the evening would not be enjoyable for him. As if noticing her sunken expression as she was lost in her thoughts, Rocco squeezed her hand once more and pressed his lips to her forehead gently, running his free hand through her scarlet locks.

"Are you okay, Emylee?" He murmured, parting from her and caressing her jaw with his thumb tenderly.

"What?" She blurted louder than she intended before forcing a grin across her face and responding. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"That's for sure." Claude added with a smirk, arching his eyebrows at her figure, earning himself a scoff from Kat and another glare from Rocco.

"Shut it, Sterling," Izabela muttered, folding her arms over her chest. "No one in their right mind would be interested in you, so I'd give up whilst you're ahead."

"I wasn't speaking to you, Varian," He snapped back angrily. "And you are just jealous of Emylee here for all the attention she gets."

"She clearly doesn't want attention from you though," She scoffed back, narrowing her dark emerald eyes into slits as a snarl formed on her pale lips. "And you should respect that your friend is the one out here with here, not you."

"Maybe you should just mind your own business."

"Em is _my _friend, hence she is my business."

Emylee glanced at Rocco, tugging on his hand before slowly leading him away from the scene as the pair continued to shout at one another hot-headedly, suddenly losing track of their original topic and just throwing insults at one another. As they vanished into the horde of students that gyrated along to the pounding music, Emylee grinned up at Rocco in relief.

"I don't think those two will ever get along." She admitted with a chuckle, shaking her head in disapproval.

"They both seem as hot-headed as one another," Rocco stated with a grin of his own. "Plus Claude deserved the earful tonight; you are here with me after all."

She couldn't help but let her grin grow at his words as he settled his hands on her hips, her own hands pressed against his chiselled chest, leaning her figure into the dips of his. She nuzzled her head into his chest, wrapping her arms tightly around his middle before responding.

"Trust me; I'm not interested in Claude at all." She murmured.

"I'm glad," He replied, his shoulders slumping forward in relief. "I feared Kat may try to murder you if you were."

"Why? Is she interested in him?" She joked before Rocco cleared his throat and she felt her eyes widen in disbelief. "She _is_?"

"Tripp and I think so, but Claude and her don't seem to agree," He replied with a shrug. "I guess I kind of wanted them to be interested in one another, all other guys she dates seem to be complete assholes."

"Like the boy who knew Izabela from the club? Lucas something or other?"

"Mmmhmm," Rocco hummed whilst nodding in agreement. "I think a dislike for him is the only think Claude and Izabela will ever agree on."

"Well, he wasn't the most pleasant person to be around," Emylee admitted. "In fact, he was admittedly kind of creepy."

"That's for sure." Rocco said as he barked with laughter before kissing the top of her head in approval.

Silence settled between the two as they stood in one another's arms, Emylee suddenly finding herself glancing about their surroundings. She had to–reluctantly–admit that Lilith had a point, it was a beautiful evening. The sky was now almost charcoal black, illuminated only by a handful of stars and a sliver of a moon that beamed down at them gently. The only other light on the beach was that of flames, adding to the romantic glow that seemed to smother the couples. The waves gently crashed into the beach, exuding the delectable, relaxing aroma with each hum of movement that danced through the atmosphere.

"Let's sit down." Emylee suddenly piped nervously.

Rocco complied, parting from her and taking hold of her hand tightly before she guided him towards the waterline, away from the horde of figures for a more _private _setting. Emylee perched herself upon the bank of the ocean, kicking off her ballet flats before dipping her toes into the chilled water. She felt a shift of movement beside her before Rocco's strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her onto his lap securely.

Emylee felt nervousness rush over her, her heart slamming violently against her chest as a lump formed in her throat, paralysing her vocal cords as she struggled to begin what she wanted to ask of Rocco. She wanted to ask him something, she had never asked before and something she had never agreed to before–despite the many offers she had received–she wanted to ask him for a relationship. It was something she knew she wanted as soon as she felt his lips pressed against hers and his protective words towards Aiden, in spite of any official relationship status between them. When she thought about it, it seemed that they were practically in a relationship already; it was simply a matter of making it official.

"Why are you so nervous?" Rocco whispered, stroking her thigh with his free hand whilst his other hand held her waist to him tightly. "Do you want me to move?"

"No," She exclaimed desperately before gaining her composure, trying her hardest to contain her nerves from sending her voice into an array of stutters. "I just wanted to ask you something."

She felt like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders as she finally got that sentence out, but it was soon replaced with an even greater weight that made her muscles tense anxiously. She suddenly felt mortified, embarrassed at the idea of asking such a thing of someone, suddenly overrun with fears of rejection, the reassuring thoughts that lingered about her psyche replaced with shrieking doubts, warning her to hold her tongue.

"That's funny, because I actually wanted to ask you something too." He replied knowingly.

"Well, go ahead," She muttered, twisting her fingers over one another, looking for any opportunity to delay her question. "I don't believe in all that ladies first crap."

"All right then," He agreed with a chuckle before pressing his lips to the nape of her neck, leading her trail of kisses up to her ears. He paused, whispering to her so gently that if they weren't so close in proximity, it would've fallen on deaf ears. "I was hoping you would do me the honour of being my girlfriend, think of it was a more official title for our relationship as it is."

"That wasn't a question."

"Let me rephrase it then, will you please do me the honour of becoming my girlfriend and giving our current relationship a more official title?" He growled with slight irritation that simply made her grin broadly.

"Calm down, my answer is yes either way you say it."


	15. Chapter Fifteen

I'm totally neglecting my other fanfictions right now. But I'm on such an inspiration binge for this story, I just want to write it until the end. XD Maybe after this chapter I'll write a bit to another fanfiction then come back to this. :3 This is my plan! Enjoy the chapter. (:

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_**Chapter Fifteen**_

Over the next few weeks, Rocco and Emylee's meet-ups became more and more frequent and by the end of the next month, they were almost a daily ritual for the couple, the pair meeting up as soon as Rocco had finished work at the bar–or so Emylee believed that was what he did all day, rather than sleep in a hole in the ground in a graveyard down the way. Not only that, but both parties insisted on inviting their friends along to their meet-ups, particularly as Emylee not only wanted to spend time with her boyfriend, but also her best friend–apart from the occasional times when the couple desired privacy for more _secretive _activities and took their meet-up to Emylee's apartment or an empty, dimly lit cafe.

Initially, whenever she asked, Izabela would always refuse to attend, throwing a string of excuses Emylee's way, but unfortunately for the vampire, her human comrade was far too skilled a manipulator for her to say no. Although she'd never admit it, it did bring Izabela relief when she was invited along to such meet-ups, she may have begun to trust Rocco alone with Emylee, but Claude was definitely _not_ one she trusted. Unfortunately, the bright-haired human's delectable blood had also attracted another unwanted pest, one that did not have the binds preventing him from drinking that Claude had, and that pest was Lucas Drakov.

At first Izabela had naively hoped that it was merely a coincidence when he had shown up at the first few meet-ups, but he soon began showing up wherever Emylee stepped foot, be he in a bat or humanoid form. His persistent stalking of the human he desired meant that the more access Izabela had to Emylee, even when she was with Rocco, the greater ability she had to protect her from Lucas, which was proving to be a tiring job, but one worth it to keep every drop of blood in Emylee's veins where it belonged.

It was for just that reason that Izabela had awoken early that Friday night, climbing out of her coffin as soon as the sun crept close enough to the horizon that she would not regret stepping outside, mentally cursing the winter for bringing the earlier sunset and thus an earlier rise for Izabela. That night, Emylee was going to the club once again to meet Rocco, inviting Izabela along as per usual and although she really wanted nothing more than to laze about in her coffin for an entire twenty four hours, the club was far too public a place for her to be left alone with Rocco and his friends.

Although Rocco was well-built and Izabela felt comfortable trusting Emylee in his presence, not to mention his quartet had the advantage of greater numbers, they were only newly formed full-vampires, unable to reach their full capacity of power at the moment, whereas Lucas had had many years to perfect his abilities. Thus the only one able to fend him off was Izabela herself, who also had a greater personal knowledge of Lucas from when they were young, giving her the advantage of a knowledge of his weaknesses, if he had any.

Izabela shook her head free of such thoughts, quickly tugging on an ebony tank top littered in safety pins, a pair of tight-fitting, violet-coloured jeans, and an array of studded belts before messily tying her hair up, stray strands of charcoal falling free to frame her pallid face along with her side-swept bangs that held an undertone of faded purple. She was not in the moon for an extravagant look that night, she was not out to attract anyone to her, instead she would be searching for the familiar, sickly sweet scent of Lucas amongst the gyrating bodies of partygoers.

After grabbing her mobile and a few essentials–including sufficient blood from the kitchen to fulfil her needs–and slipping her money and mobile into the tight pockets of her jeans, she stuffed her feet into a pair of worn-out, checked converse shoes and darted out of the Victorian-styled, Varian mansion, the remainder of her family–even the butler– still deep in their afternoon slumber. She had to thank her parents for one thing, all their invites of the Lucas and his family over to dinner had allowed her to familiarise herself with his aroma and keep a closer eye on him, although she still detested spending any more time than necessary with the aggravating, smug vampire that was Lucas Drakov and his self-centred parents that were just as bad as her own.

She quickly made her way to the rundown apartment in downtown Hispterville that housed the Rusking siblings, silently thankful that the humans were busying themselves about dinner tables, leaving the streets bare for her to travel at an impeccable speed without detection. Izabela slowed to a human pace as she approached the entrance to the apartment block, but before her hand to even touch the door, it swung open, free of her grasp.

Emylee nearly jumped out of her skin at Izabela's sudden appearance as she held the door open in confusion, cocking her head to the side with her dark eyes widened with shock. Her voluptuous figure stood a tad taller than Izabela's, her height greatly accentuated by her ebony Mary Jane platforms. Her slender legs were moulded into a pair of skin-tight, glossy vinyl trousers that had an equally dark colouring whilst a scarlet tube top clung to her developed chest, an array of differently sized black bats silhouettes printed along the top which exposed her tramp stamp-styled tattoo and navel piercing. Her blood scarlet tangles fell loosely about her fair, heart-shaped face in hazardous layers with dark fuchsia highlights coming from her roots and side-swept bangs skimming along her curved eyebrows.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, Iz," She exclaimed, overcoming her fright and greeting her friend with a grin. "I thought we were all meeting at the club though."

"I got out of homeschooling early," Izabela lied calmly with a smile of her own forming on her pallid lips. "Plus I was downtown anyhow to grab something to eat."

"You should've texted me, I would have preferred eating out," Emylee groaned with a frown, rolling her eyes as she spoke. "I let my brother do the grocery shopping yesterday and our kitchen is literally full of a crap load of protein and beers."

"I would have thought you'd enjoy those two things more than anything else." Izabela teased as they made their way towards the Coffin Club.

As they approached the infamous club, the usually mile long line was miniscule at such an early hour, the club only just opening its doors. Emylee beamed at the sight, her whole figure perking up with glee.

"I knew leaving the apartment early was a good idea," She exclaimed proudly, pointing towards the bizarrely small line before guiding Izabela towards it. "It takes a true genius to beat the line."

Izabela smiled at her words as little did Emylee know, it took far more than a genius to beat the gargantuan line, it took the inhuman powers of a vampire.

* * *

Over the next half hour, the club quickly filled up with grinding bodies of partygoers as the line outside soon stretched so far down the road that the club was barely in sight from the end of it. Rocco and his comrades arrived soon after Izabela and Emylee, easily slipping into the club through an entrance reserved for their kind, ensuring they did not need to wait in the painfully long line. Within minutes of the quartet's arrival, after everyone was allocated their respective drinks, Izabela and Claude were once again at one another's throats furiously and although Tripp and Kat had managed to slip away unnoticed; Rocco and Emylee were left to mediate the argument.

"Do the world a favour and go get stuffed, you complete moron." Izabela snapped, glaring darkly at Claude despite his athletic figure towering over her curvaceous one greatly in height.

"I'm starting to get the impression that you are permanently hormonal," He growled back with irritation. "You moody bitch."

"Oh how witty, a sexist remark, I am truly impressed." She snarled sarcastically.

"Why can't you two just calm down?" Emylee piped, taking a swig of the alcohol-filled glass bottle in her hand before continuing. "You're both as each other; in fact you couldn't be more alike if you were twins."

"Don't compare me to the likes of _him,_" Izabela warned before glaring at Claude once again with a twitch of her upper lip. "He is a pathetic excuse for a man."

"And you're _not _a pathetic excuse for a woman?" Claude retorted with a cruel laugh. "How could I not have realised what a feminine woman you are before? I mean I can really see suitors lining up to take your hand in marriage."

"Just because I don't rely on a bloody relationship for happiness," She hissed lividly, grabbing fistfuls of his torn shirt forcefully. "Does not mean I am less of a woman, by saying that you only prove that you _are_ a sexist pig."

"Let go of me."

"Then hold your tongue before I rip it out of your fucking mouth." She snapped before releasing him as she noticed Emylee's scolding glare.

"You should try holding your tongue," Claude challenged, ignoring the groans of infuriation from Rocco and Emylee at him continuing argument. "God knows no one wants to hear the bullshit you sprout."

Izabela felt her innards boil, her hands bunching together into tight fists as she felt a heated rage erupt through her body at his disrespect. But before she could pounce on him and tear his vocal cords out, she felt an arm sling around her shoulders, paralysing her on the spot.

"You shouldn't disrespect Izabela so, Sterling," The beholder sneered. "Run back to your little friends, you might get hurt trying to play with the big kids."

Izabela glanced up at the speaker, her expression of fury becoming replaced with one of disdain as her dark eyes met his deep violet ones. Lucas stood before her, his bluish black scene-styled hair framing his handsome, paper-white features as the strobe lighting of the club illuminated the dark violet highlights that clung to his tinged locks. His almond-shaped eyes sat on either side of a flawlessly straight nose, narrowed seductively as his gaze darted up to admire Emylee's figure. His own, finely chiselled figure was dressed in a pair of ebony skin-tight jeans and a heavy metal band tee whilst his lanky waist adorned in many bullet belts. He wore a smirk on his thin lips, a pair of rings clinging to his bottom lip in a snake-bite fashion.

"Thanks for your input, Lucas," Izabela muttered sarcastically whilst tearing his arm away from her shoulders with a frown. "I _really_ needed you to defend me."

"Calm down, Izabela, you may thank me in private," He soothed in a charismatic voice before ripping his attention away from her and shifting towards Emylee. "And may I say that you look absolutely beautiful this evening, Miss Emylee."

"No, you may not," Rocco growled, slipping his arm around her small waist and pulling her curvaceous figure to his curvaceously. "So get lost, Drakov."

"You are not wanted here nor are your fellow pests, Rocco," Lucas retorted, waving Rocco away dismissively. "Leave now before I make you leave without any of your limbs."

"Give it a try," He snapped back with a murderous expression. "I'd gladly kick your ass any time."

"Such a big bark for a weak little insect, but you are testing my patience," Lucas sneered with a cruel laugh, his gaze becoming alluring once more as he gazed into Emylee's dark eyes, his hand caressing her bottle-gasping one tenderly. "After all, _we _would like some privacy, wouldn't we, Emylee?"

"No, we wouldn't," She muttered, narrowing her eyes at him furiously at his words over her partner. "Get it through your head that I am _not _interested in a perverted, moronic bastard such as yourself. Now let go of me before I make _you _leave without any limbs."

He tightened his grip on her hand as she attempted to tug herself free, his seductive expression twisting darkly. His eyebrows drew together, shadowing his glowering expression as his lips curled into a venomously sneer.

"Care to repeat that, bitch?" He growled animally, baring his teeth at her threateningly.

"I said let me go!" She shrieked, her fair features becoming scarlet under the pain of his tight grip, his blackened nails digging into her subtle flesh furiously.

"Not until I teach you a lesson about respect and you–"

Suddenly, his words dropped off of his tongue as a screech of shattering glass erupted through the air, her hand collapsing within his as the glass bottle she had crashed in on itself. She howled in agony, the shards of glass slicing through her flesh like a knife through butter, ripping her hand open to reveal a flood of red ruby liquid. The on looking vampires watched in fear as Lucas froze, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, his nostrils flaring as arousal bursting through his body at the delectable scent of her exposed blood.

"That smells _delicious_." He sighed, his once brilliant violet eyes now scarlet with hunger as his gaze dropped to her hand with desire.

Within the blink of an eye, her hand was torn from his, Rocco snatching her figure away from him before thrusting her into Izabela's arms. She caught the human with caution, glancing up at Rocco wide-eyed with confusion as he tackled Lucas to the ground, pinning him behind his brawny figure.

"Claude, get Tripp and Kat to help me," He commanded as Lucas wriggled beneath him with slurs of profanity. "Izabela, take Emylee away from here _now_."

"But I don't want to go–" Emylee began, but Rocco's booming voice interrupted her.

"I said _now_," He shouted, Izabela ripping herself free of her daze to comply with his commands. "Please, I trust _you_ with her, Izabela."


	16. Chapter Sixteen

_**...**_

* * *

_**Chapter Sixteen**_

"What the fuck is going on?"

Emylee snapped along with another string of profanities, tangles of her blood red mane whipping her heart-shaped face violently as she was dragged away from the club at an inhuman speed by Izabela, her legs threatening to buckle beneath her at the strain. She cradled her hand to her chest; a carpet of scarlet liquid pooling in the palm, staining her top as her free hand was clutched by Izabela tightly, ensuring the human kept up with her darting speed.

As the pair finally reached the apartment block holding the Rusking apartment, Emylee felt her legs crumble over one another as she skidded to a stop, Izabela's powerful grip on her arm the only thing holding her upright. After thrusting the door open, the duo continued their journey, bolting up the stairwell before halting in front of the desired apartment. Izabela clasped a hand over her mouth and nose, smothering any smell from getting in as she stood still alongside Emylee.

"Do you have a key?" Her words leaked through her fingers.

"Tell me what's going on." Emylee demanded firmly, narrowing her dark chocolate eyes at her suspiciously.

"Just open the door and let me take care of your hand." She growled, her far more aggressive tone frightening the vibrant-haired human into digging through her pocket for the key.

After forcing the lock open with an audible _click_, Emylee pushed the door open with the side of her body, still tightly cradling her wounded hand to her chest, staining her clothes in sprinkles of scarlet. Izabela burst through the door after her, slamming it shut and forcing the lock back into place before pointing to the plush sofa facing the television.

"Please sit there," She grunted through her hand as she kept it tightly wrapped around her pallid features. "I need you to keep downwind of me."

Emylee obeyed, sitting on the couch before dropping her gaze to her hand, gasping as the gashes laced through her flesh, stinging agonisingly. Izabela scrambled to the kitchenette, tearing the cupboards open, riffling through them before groaning audibly and glancing at Emylee.

"Thank god I already fed this evening and have enough self-control to resist," She muttered under her breath before increasing her voice volume to speak to the human. "Do you have a first aid kit in any of these cupboards?"

"Bottom right by the fridge, Iz." She replied, wincing as she ran the buds of her fingers over her torn flesh.

"Don't touch, you'll make it worse," Izabela scolded, retrieving the first aid kit and a bowl before mustering up all of her self-control and making her way towards Emylee. "I'm going to need your help with this."

She sat herself upon the coffee table across from Emylee, filling the bowl with a crystal clear antiseptic solution before clasping her hand over her nasal passageways once more and turning her attention to the gaping wound itself.

"Why are you doing that?" Emylee enquired, gesturing towards Izabela's hand movement.

"Let's just say blood makes me uncomfortable," She muttered, scrunching up a cotton wad in her hand before dipping it in the antiseptic solution. "This is going to sting _a lot_, but it'll help."

With her free hand, Izabela pressed the wad to the wound, ignoring Emylee's grunts of agony from the solution flooding over her gashes as she struggled to keep her hand still for Izabela to busy herself over. After a few more minutes, Izabela covered the wounds in sterile strips before pressing a cleaned cotton wad to the wound and grabbing a role of bandage, bandaging the human's hand up as tightly as possible, the cotton wad providing sufficient pressure to limit the bleeding. After pinning the bandage securely down, she released the hand back to Emylee, who simply stared at it curiously.

"Thank you," She murmured. "But is there not glass in the cuts or anything?"

"Not from what I can see," Izabela replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "You should go to hospital tomorrow, get it checked out and some prescription painkillers. Until then we need to keep an eye on that and keep you safe."

"Why can't I go to hospital now?" Emylee retorted with her eyebrows arched in utter puzzlement. "And keep me safe from _what_?"

"Not what, who," Izabela corrected sighing to herself, before climbing to her feet with a frown spreading across her features. "I can't leave you out in the open like that until I can tell you how to protect yourself from Lucas because I _know _he will try to visit you again."

"Well it's not like I'm going to let that psychopath inside." She scoffed, irritated that Izabela considered her so imbecilic.

"You don't have to let him inside for him to get to you," Izabela snarled in a serious tone. "He isn't exactly going to be polite about things from now on."

"Just tell me what's going on," Emylee groaned demandingly. "You've dragged me all the way home and are speaking in tongues, just tell me what the hell is going on, please. I _deserve_ to know."

"It's really complicated–"

"You're supposed to be my_ best _friend," Emylee interrupted angrily, raising her voice to a shout. "Just tell me what the fuck is going on!"

"Fine," Izabela spat perching herself upon the kitchen counter before slumping her shoulders forward with a sigh of regret. "But try not to think I'm too crazy or hate me too much once I tell you what's going on," After receiving a confused nod of agreement from Emylee, she reluctantly continued. "The truth is Lucas, Rocco, his friends, and I are all vampires–"

"You are all _vampires_?" Emylee interrupted with a snort of disbelief.

"I forgot to say another condition of mine, no interrupting whilst I explain," She hissed before continuing. "Yes, we are all vampires. Ever wonder why you've never seen us during the day? Because we're sleeping in coffins, and in Rocco and his friends' case, in a hole in the ground somewhere. And the reason Rocco told me to get you out of the club is because of your wounds, Lucas was ready to feed on you and he is monstrously strong,"

"I might as well explain why, you see, from birth Lucas and I have been vampires and been fed the blood of humans. Rocco and his friends, however, were born half-human, half-vampire, in a limbo between the two worlds until a year or so ago when they were able to turn themselves into full-vampires on the condition that they would not feed upon humans. So they are not accustomed to the powers of a full-vampire nor are their fully nourished by the blood of humans, meaning only I size up to Lucas in ability and thus I need to protect you as I have been doing for weeks," Izabela sighed, trying to ignore Emylee's astounded expression as she stared at the vampire as if she were crazy. "Do you have anything to say about that before I continue? You're just sort of staring at me."

Suddenly Emylee burst into laughter, shaking her head in disbelief as she chuckled in denial.

"Wow, I nearly believed you for a moment there, Iz," She admitted in between giggles, trying to ignore the grave expression on Izabela's features. "You really have a wild imagination."

"Fine, if you are going to be that stubborn," Izabela muttered in defeat, hopping off of the counter, ensuring it separated her from Emylee. "Then I'll just have to prove what I am to you."

* * *

Emylee felt her heart leap in her chest in fright as the door to her bedroom peeled open, but her tensed muscles quickly relaxed as Izabela's familiar visage soon appeared, a steaming mug in her hands, seemingly unfazed by the scolding temperature. She crept towards Emylee, silently handing her the mug before perching herself on the foot of the bed as Emylee sat upright, her back pressed against the headboard with the duvet tucked about her waist. She had finally calmed down and accepted the discovery that those she had been surrounding herself with were, in fact, creatures of the night. Now she simply sat huddled up in her bed, anxiously shocked by the breakthrough with an array of thoughts and questions racing through her psyche.

"One thing I can do is make a mean tea," The vampire joked awkwardly as Emylee took a sip of the tea, trying to cease the shivers that burst about her curvaceous figure. "Should I not have told you?"

"No, no, it was right of you to tell me..." She murmured into her mug before taking another sip.

"I would _never _hurt you, Em," Izabela interrupted the stiff silence that settled between the pair. "I promise, I mean we've spent a lot of time together the last couple of months and I have never even implied a want to hurt you or anything."

"I know, Iz, it's just a lot to take in," Emylee muttered before placing her mug on her bedside table and leaning forward with interest. "So you guys don't have reflections?"

"Nope."

"What about sunlight and garlic?" She whispered gently, as if someone were listening in on their conversation.

"That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about," Izabela admitted, folding her legs underneath her figure as she turned to face Emylee with a look of concern. "I will stay with you tonight, but I want you to be able to protect yourself from Lucas. Garlic and light does have an effect on us, so I would advise lining your windows with garlic, along with your brother's just in case he tries to get to you through him. Garlic is pretty much toxic to us. In terms of light, if you have a bright flashlight or a UV light, it will disarm him."

"Well, I think my brother has a UV light or at least a few strong lights for when he creates light installations for exhibitions or interesting lighting when doing realist paintings." She suggested.

"Those will work fine, if you really doubt them, you can test them on me."

"But won't that hurt?"

"Yes, but I'd be happy to go through that to make sure you are safe," Izabela stated with a smile of comfort. "Rocco and I, in the meantime, will take nightly watch shifts to ensure you are okay and just in case Lucas turns up."

"Do you think Rocco would... Would drink from me?" Emylee mumbled nervously.

"No, I told you, he doesn't drink from humans," Izabela soothed tenderly. "There was a reason why I never said no to you two dating, I not only trust you to take care of yourself, but I trust him to take care of you too."

"Well, at least I know I can trust two people to take care of me and make me feel safe, even if you _are_ both vampires," She chuckled lightly to herself, snuggling into her bed with a yawn. "I feel like I'm about to pass out."

"I'll try and keep quiet so you can get some sleep." Izabela beamed, lying herself down horizontally across the foot of the bed, careful not to trample on Emylee's feet.

"Out of curiosity, why do you always argue with Claude? Is that something to do with being a vampire?" Emylee enquired, running a hand through her bright scarlet locks, combing them out of her fair face now cleaned of its dark make-up.

"Sort of," Izabela muttered, folding her hands behind her head, forming a pillow on which for it to rest. "That and he is a massive prick who irritates the hell out of me. He spends most of the time drooling over you _and _your blood, part of me thinks it is to wind Rocco up, the other part of me worries he is actually serious about it."

"Or maybe you are just jealous," Emylee smirked as she heard the vampire growl venomously at her statement. "Maybe he's doing it to wind _you _up because it makes _you _jealous, not Rocco."

"Maybe I should slap you around the head for thinking such idiotic things," She snapped back with a glare. "I am _not _jealous and he does it because he is a complete dick. Luckily, Rocco seems to be quite different from that moronic pest."

"All that denial just makes me think you like him more." Emylee replied in a sing-song voice.

"I am seriously considering slapping you. And I do _not _like him at all; I don't think there's a single redeemable quality about him." Izabela challenged.

"How about his appearance? Are you sure that's not something you are looking for, Iz?" She continued to tease.

"No, it's not. But it's starting to sound like it's something _you _want." Izabela taunted back.

"Oh, you're so funny. Rocco is my boyfriend and all I care about, so your point is just moot," Emylee remarked in a matter-of-factly voice before continuing her mockery. "I'm sure somewhere in that mind of yours, you think Claude is foxy. Why else do you waste your breath on him?"

"Because it's amusing to prove to the world that he is an imbecile," Izabela bit back as Emylee simply grinned widely. She rolled her eyes at the human with a mutter. "Oh just shut up, there's no way I'm going to win this argument."

"That's the beauty of being a human, we're pretty damn stubborn."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Tehehehe, Izabela is so embarrassed. Oh well. I enjoy that. 8D I'm trying to figure out how many chapters are left. I just feel really inspired so I know how each chapter will go basically. So I guess we'll just see. ^^ Anyway, I shouldn't ramble. Enjoy.

* * *

_**Chapter Seventeen**_

Izabela groaned within her coffin, combing her long ebony tangles out of her pallid face before forcing the lid open, the silver moonlight pouring through the window, pooling along her pyjama-clad features. She dangled her arms over the edge of the sleek coffin, her fingers prancing across the cold wooden floor in search of a miniature mobile device. As her fingers brushed over the lid of her mobile phone, she tore it open allowing a dim light to burst out, disrupting the shadows looming about the darkened room.

She glanced at the unread messages, updates about Emylee's wellbeing that she had asked her to send during the daylight hours when the vampire was too deep in her slumber to watch over her. After reading her friend's miserable words, Izabela groaned once again collapsing back in her coffin with a frown. She could not believe this was happening, she had hoped a vampiric relationship would not be so dramatic for Emylee.

Over a week had passed since the club incident and Emylee's introduction into the hidden world of vampires, but even though Emylee was slowly becoming comfortable with the concept of vampires, her heart was breaking. She had left Rocco as many messages physically possible, filling up the entirety of his voicemail capacity on his mobile phone, but he never answered a single one. She had gone to the club in search of him–albeit with Izabela in tow as she did not want to leave Emylee alone, out of the open with Lucas still wondering about.

When she had visited Emylee a few days before, at an earlier time than she usually did, that she found the bright-haired human in tears, huddled beneath her duvet, her figure shuddering with each sob that burst through her lips. She had put her arms around Emylee with wide, confused eyes, waiting for her weeping to subside before the enquiry began. That was when Emylee reluctantly explained what she had been hiding; Rocco had not visited her or even spoken to her since the incident, the closest she had to any contact was the many voicemails she had left with him, unanswered.

Izabela tried to shake the memories of that from her head, texting Emylee back before discarding her mobile into the coffin as she climbed out. She dressed herself in a pair of tight-fitting, black jeans and a similarly coloured tee with a logo of a skull littered in decaying scarlet candles printed on the front. She felt her dark emerald eyes skim back to her phone that sat patiently within her coffin, awaiting her next move. She rolled her eyes and snatched the phone back up again before dialling Emylee's number, nervously ruffling her fingers through her slanted bangs, fingering the undertone of violet that was dyed into them.

"Hello?" The groggy voice on the end of the line barely sounded like Emylee anymore, her outgoing personality completely undetectable. "Izabela, is that you?"

Izabela gulped audibly as sniffles erupted from the other side of the phone with each passing second and that, accompanied with the hoarse voice, told her that Emylee had once again been in tears. It was a hard sight to imagine, and an even harder one to see, the bubbly Emylee Rusking broken down into sobs and misery, dark make-up running down her fair, heart-shaped face. It was a sight that Izabela never wanted to see again, but the image singed itself into her mind as she spoke to Emylee.

"Hey Em," She piped back gently. "I just got up and wanted to check on you. Do you want me to hang out for a bit?"

"No, that's okay," Emylee replied in a dazed voice, sighing as she spoke. "I'm going to go to bed in a minute anyway."

"It's barely even seven." Izabela muttered with a frown as she sat herself

"Well, it's dark out," She retorted weakly. "And I feel too exhausted to do anything anyway, sorry."

Izabela felt her heart ache at her friend's tone; she had never expected anyone to get so cutup over a boy, especially Emylee who gained male attention wherever she went. But, Rocco was Emylee's first proper relationship and had been with her every evening for the last month and his disappearance was definitely not taken lightly. Izabela felt her free hand curl into a fist at the thought of her friend spending another night in tears.

"That's okay, Em," She stated firmly. "I think I've found something to do, I'll ring you later to check up on you."

With a soft farewell, Izabela hung up the phone, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans before peeling the window open forcefully. She glanced from the ground to the view of Hipsterville before her, growling to herself before leaping from the ledge. She landed cleanly on her feet with cat-like grace, dusting her legs off before sniffing the air, her eyes narrowing in concentration. She would find where the quartet of vampires were hiding amongst the gargantuan vampiric population of Hipsterville, she was not going to let Rocco runaway from Emylee any longer, human or not, no one deserved to be treated like _that_.

* * *

It was a few hours later, after reluctantly returning to the Varian home to feed on the command of her parents', that Izabela found herself standing before the towering black iron gates of a graveyard. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled deeply, the familiar scent of the quartet lingering about the darkened scene.

_A graveyard, how original of them. _She thought with a roll of her eyes before scaling the fence with feline speed.

She hopped from the fence, landing neatly on the other side in the centre of the winding dirt path leading through the cemetery. Tombstones were littered about finely kept emerald blades of grass, their corresponding graves decorated in bouquets of freshly bloomed flowers, honouring the deceased concealed within. Izabela waltzed through the macabre scene comfortably, layers of her dark hair bouncing about her shoulder blades in the chilled winter breeze. As she progressed deeper into the graveyard, the stench of the vampires wafted through her nasal passageways, leading her towards an array of overgrown shrubs, hiding their place of slumber.

She made her way through the shrubs, angrily tearing away that the branches blocking her path before she tore back the final branch, revealing an opening in the overgrown vegetation. The slipper of a moon overhead illuminated the opening, a small, decomposing mausoleum sitting in the far corner, overlooking the four ditches dug in the ground, holding four identical coffins, all but one held tightly shut. In the open coffin stood a figure, the silver light outlining the dips and curves of his slender yet chiselled torso, his tall figure dressed only in a pair of ebony boxers, his bare athletic form unfazed by the late night, chilled air. The breeze swept through his wispy mop of dyed flaxen locks, revealing the jet black highlights erupting from the roots whilst exposing his handsome, fair-skinned features. The silver ring that clung to the left of his bottom lip glinted mischievously in the moonlight.

A scream of fright burst through Izabela's lips before she could smother it with a hand, her figure overwhelmed with shock at the sight of the scantily clad Claude Sterling. His deep brown orbs darted towards where she stood in utter confusion, widening to the size of dinner plates in disbelief.

"What are _you _doing here?" He snapped, his eyes narrowing into a glower as he overcame his surprise. "Enjoying your time as a peeping Tom?"

"Will you please put some clothes on?" She hissed, her cheeks burning deep crimson as she clasped a hand over her eyes, shielding them from the scene. "And I'm here to see Rocco, not to peep on you as frankly, the sight has scarred me for the rest of my vampiric life. Also, as a woman, I wouldn't be called a peeping Tom anyway."

"Sorry for not being politically correct," He snarled, no doubt rolling his eyes as he scrambled into some clothes. "Here's an idea though, instead of disturbing me at the graveyard, why didn't you just call Rocco?"

"Because the bastard won't answer his phone." She retorted in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Well I can't imagine why," He muttered sarcastically. "Talking to you is always a hoot, so why would anyone give up an opportunity to do so?"

"Just tell me where Rocco is before I murder you," She growled impatiently. "As I take it you weren't performing a strip tease for your friends. So where are they?"

"Why should I tell you? And you can uncover your eyes."

Izabela reluctantly peeled her fingers away from her eyes, feeling her muscles relax at the sight of Claude fully dressed, lacing up his scuffed up combat boots. His long legs were moulded into a pair of hazardously torn, scarlet skinny jeans whilst an ebony, sleeveless collared shirt clung to his torso beneath his trademark leather jacket. A black chain was slung around his neck with a skull dangling from the end, matching the array of gothic designed rings slipped onto his spidery fingers and the studded belts clinging to his waist.

"Nice of you to finally put on some clothes," Izabela sneered with a twitch of her upper lip. "And you should tell me where they are or I will forcibly remove your tongue seeing as you have nothing useful to say anyway."

"I'm not scared of you, so you might as well give up the threats." He corrected with a smug smirk.

"I don't need you to be scared of me to kick your arse."

"Yeah, I can see you doing that." He scoffed in disbelief, gesturing towards her short figure.

"Just tell me where the fuck Rocco is," She snapped, her patience evaporating away on the spot before her voice suddenly became one of mockery. "Or do you not know where they are? Oh this makes complete sense, no wonder you're here all on your lonesome and won't answer my questions. Your pathetic company drove them off."

"Oh you're so witty, Varian."

"I'm not joking, in fact, I understand the feeling as I'm about ready to march out of the bloody graveyard," She continued to mock him. "Seeing as you don't know where they are anyway, I am wasting my time talking to a moron like you."

"They probably went to the Coffin Club and didn't bother to wake me up," Claude surrendered, clearly irked by her taunts as a scowl spread across his shapely lips. "We've been trying to clear Rocco's since the episode with Drakov at the club with Emylee."

"He doesn't need to clear that thick head of his," Izabela shouted, raising her voice furiously. "He needs to go talk to his fucking girlfriend!"

"Calm the fuck down," Claude muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Are you hormonal or something?"

"I am not hormonal!" She shouted even louder, wondering if her shouts may literally wake the dead. "I am trying to take care of Emylee because that fucking friend of yours won't even speak to his bloody girlfriend!"

Suddenly, a hand clasped over Izabela's mouth, muffling her shouts of profanity as the sterling silver rings it donned chilled her pallid flesh. Claude's dark eyes were mere inches from hers, glaring darkly as he hissed through his bared teeth.

"Just quieten the hell down. And what the fuck are you on about? They aren't dating anymore."

"Get off me," Her angry words seeped through his strong hand before she clawed it from her features. "And the better question is what the fuck are _you _on about? Rocco hasn't taken any of her calls or met up with her at all since the incident, let alone broken up with her."

"Really?" Claude responded dumbfounded. "We just assumed that she had broken up with him... He hasn't stopped moping about what happened under his watch, he's been really cut up about putting Emylee in danger. We thought she dumped him because of it."

"Do you think she is some kind of pretentious bitch? She wouldn't do that," Izabela corrected lividly, shaking her dark hair out of her glaring eyes. "In fact, I told her about what we are and yes, she seriously freaked out first. But she's accepting it and still wants to be with Rocco, she literally just sits in her room in tears because of him not bothering to contact her at all."

"Well, how was he supposed to know that he wouldn't just make it worse?" Claude retorted defensively. "He's upset too; just because he doesn't burst into tears the whole time doesn't mean he is the bad guy here."

"Well he's definitely not the bloody good guy," She scoffed, furious at the implication that Emylee could be in the wrong. "In fact he's just a miserable coward for doing this!"

"Don't call him a coward!" He shouted back, suddenly overcome with rage at the cruel words towards one of his best friends. "He's a fucking great guy and your friend is bloody lucky to have any attention from him, especially considering she walks around scantily clad for all guys to ogle at her!"

"Are you implying she is a whore? Because you better fucking take that back, especially because _you _were one of those fucking guys ogling at her like a moron!"

"You can leave now and you had better leave Rocco alone, if he wants to talk to Emylee, he will. You can't make him do anything." Claude growled, gesturing for her to leave the way she came.

"You can't make me leave him alone, unlike you, _I _am a good friend and will do anything to make Emylee feel better," She hissed back. "You don't even have the guts to stand up to Rocco and tell him when he's in the wrong, so how the hell do you expect to stand up to _me_?"

"I'm not going to lie and say he's in the wrong when he clearly isn't," He retorted, leaning forward to snap at her murderously. "And you think I can't stand up to you? Why don't you stay and give me a fucking reason to show you that I can?"

"I hear the words coming out of your mouth, but I don't see you doing anything," She taunted with a cruel smirk. "I _dare_ you to try something; I will beat you to a pulp without breaking a single sweat."

"Unlike you, I have manners, my parents told me never to hit a woman, although you hardly fit that gender." He muttered with a bark of a brutal laugh.

"That's just a cop out, I knew you didn't have the guts to do anything," She snarled, her smirk only growing. "You are just a little, pathetic imitation vampire who nobody wanted, not even your own parents, and I could easily break every bone in that fragile little body of yours."

"Just shut the fuck up!"

His murderous shriek shook the slumbering birds from their perches as in the blink of an eye, Izabela felt her back slam into the chilled stone wall of the mausoleum, her head crashing into the wall, sending her mind into a frenzy of confusion. She felt Claude's tall body loom over hers, his hands pressed against the stone on either side of her bewildered expression, pinning her down forcefully as he glared at her venomously, their pallid faces mere millimetres apart.

"You had better hold your tongue," He snarled at her wide-eyed expression. "Or you will regret it."

Izabela slowly felt her muscles relax from their tensed state, her dark emerald orbs slowly returning to their normal size as she inspected his admittedly handsome features. His bleached blonde tangles swept over his attractive visage, allowing only a few slithers of moonlight to highlight his features, accentuating the paper-whiteness of his flesh. His dark chocolate eyes were narrowed heatedly, sitting on either side of a perfectly straight nose that the moonlight trickled off of, framing his well-defined cheekbones. Izabela traced the lines of the moonlight as it slipped from his high cheekbones, creeping along his slanted, masculine jaw before settling on his tender, alluring lips.

It was then that Izabela found herself unable to tear her gaze from his plump lips, her chest heaving nervously at the close proximity of their two bodies. She was surprised to find her body take on a mind of its own, lifting a hand to cup his cheek gently, ignoring his bewildered expression as his eyes bulged in shock. Then suddenly, she felt the tender touch of his lips against hers, the silver ring cold against her own, sending pulses of ecstasy through her nerves, electrifying her body into life, tracing the dips and curves of his torso with her hands softly. Claude overcame his shock, parting his lips to tickle her own with his anxious tongue whilst his arms slithered themselves around her waist, massaging the bare small of her back.

Her nerves leapt in shock at the feel of his flesh against her own tore Izabela from her trance of arousal, her confused psyche regaining control of her body as she pushed him away from her, propelling his figure to the ground. She stared at him in disbelief as the touch of his lips still lingered on her own tantalisingly.

"Never speak to me like that again," She hissed, trying to regain control of the situation as her cheeks became dark beetroot in embarrassment as Claude started up with her in bewilderment. "Or _you _will regret it."

And with that, she ran away as far as her legs would carry her.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

I love K.C. in this chapter. :3 He brings me joy. (: Hopefully he'll bring you joy too! Buh, I feel like this was too short. ._. it saddens me now, ruining the joy of K.C. XD

* * *

_**Chapter Eighteen**_

A soft melody danced about the Rusking apartment, exuding from the upright piano at which Emylee sat. Her head was bowed, hazardous layers of blood red shadowing her heart-shaped face that was twisted with concentration as her fingers pranced across the glossy ivory and ebony keys gracefully. A pair of loose-fitting, ebony satin pyjama trousers hung from her hips whilst her curvaceous torso was compressed into a spaghetti-strapped top with a black and white polka dot design along with an ivory lace trim. Suddenly a squeak of noise broke the harmony as her fingers fumbled over one another, her mouth curling into an irritated snarl.

"Fuck!" She shouted in frustration, slamming her fists down on the keys, sending a crescendo of noise through the thin-walled apartment.

She folded her arms upon the keys before dropping her head to them, pressing her forehead against her fingers as she sighed to herself. Her chest heaved as she sniffled, desperately fighting back the tears that built up in her dark eyes whenever she was left alone with her thoughts. The sound of a door opening made her ears twitch, but she did not lift her head, easily recognising the footsteps of her bare-footed, thirty two-year-old brother shuffling about the apartment.

She only lifted her head in surprise as she felt a new weight on the bench that sat before the piano, her brother's lanky figure nuzzling in next to hers, slipping a tattooed arm around her shoulders comfortingly. Her deep sienna eyes glanced up at him through curtains of tousled scarlet as she tried to force an expression of happiness across her fair features, but after seventeen years together, her brother easily saw through it.

"What's the matter?" He soothed as she rested her head against his chest, far too short to use his shoulder as a place to cry on.

"Oh nothing, K.C., just being a fucking failure at playing the piano, as I am with everything else I do." She muttered venomously, although it was more so directed at herself than her brother.

"Don't say something so silly, you're not a failure at anything," He murmured gently, rubbing her bare arms with his hands tenderly. "And you're an amazing pianist, we both know that."

"If you say so." She muttered with a pout.

"Now tell me what's really going on." He ordered, bowing his head to rest it on hers, his long mousy brown tangles tickling over her shoulders.

"Nothing is going on, nothing at all," She lied with a forced tone of false glee before her tone became spiteful. "I'm just playing with the piano keys like Rocco played with my heart strings. Not that he'd fucking give a shit."

"This is about Rocco?" K.C. growled furiously as she bobbed her head into a nod against his chest, feeling her eyes swell up with tears, moistening his black heavy metal band tee. But he was too absorbed in his sudden flood of rage to notice her staining his top. "Where is he now? I'll find that bastard and I swear to god I will–"

"K.C. I just need you here with me," She whispered in between the sniffles that burst from her lips. "I don't want to be alone."

She suddenly felt overwhelmed with loneliness, yearning for Rocco's charming company and loving embrace once again. Before she knew it, tears streamed down her hot cheeks, sobs erupting from her quivering lips as her figure shivered. K.C. tightened his grip on her into a full embrace, rubbing her back comfortingly as he shushed her, rocking her back and forth as if she were a child as she wept into his chest.

The two siblings sat like that for quite some time until Emylee finally felt her sobbing subside, K.C. drying her cheeks with the buds of his thumbs before smiling at her. He ruffled his hand through her bright locks playfully, sweeping them out of her reddened face as she chuckled lightly, batting his hand away with a small smile forming on her own lips.

"Thanks K.C." She squeaked, her smile becoming crooked as thoughts of Rocco once again bombarded through her mind, threatening to force another round of tears out of her puffy eyes.

"Anytime, M&M," He replied, quickly changing the subject as he noticed her distress. "How's about I make your favourite dinner?"

"Roast lamb and homemade chips?" Emylee beamed, suddenly becoming aware of how little she had been eating as her stomach practically moaned in ecstasy at the thought of the meal.

"And cauliflower with a melted cheese sauce," He added with a grin. "We have to have something for me to eat after all."

A silence settled between the pair, K.C.'s heavily pierced visage pinching together in thought as he ran the buds of his fingers over the stubble dotted along his jaw. His eyes snapped open, glancing at Emylee before sighing.

"I have an idea," He stated softly. "I know I have been really busy with my art lately for my exhibition coming up, but I thought we could spend Saturday together."

"Sure," Emylee agreed, shrugging her shoulders before her voice became light-hearted with teasing. "I have nothing else to do and it'd be nice to get you out of that damn room of yours."

"I was thinking that we could maybe visit mum and dad's graves as well," He spoke so gently it was nearly a whisper as his gaze fell to his lap nervously. "I know we haven't gone in a while and we could bring mum's favourite flowers too."

Emylee lay still for a moment, holding her breath as she pursed her lips together in concentration. It had been a decade since her parents had passed away in a car accident in the centre of Hipsterville that had claimed the lives of three other civilians, caused by a drunk driver gone awry who too passed away. They had visited the graves everyday at first, which after a year became every week–as the pair were forced to move to a smaller apartment, further way–and now it was every month, however K.C.'s art had distracted him greatly, leaving only Emylee to go by herself.

She hated thinking about her parents, about the depression that had tortured her for years since her innocence was stolen away from her at seven-years-old, along with her parents. One of the reasons such was such an outgoing, party girl was because it kept her mind free of depression and off of the deaths of her parents, allowing her to enter a wonderland where such things did not exist. With Rocco, the fantasy world became a reality and even with the thoughts of her parents, he made her genuinely happy enough to pull her from the misery. But with him gone, it was time to visit her parents again; it was something she needed to do, especially in such dark times.

"That'd be good, I'll get the flowers with you that morning," She murmured with a genuine smile on her lips. "Thanks for cheering me up."

"No problem, thanks for controlling my rage," He joked before scooting himself further onto the beach, forcing Emylee to sit upright. "Now let's work on that piece you were playing."

"Oh, it was nothing. I was just sort of playing anything that came to mind," She admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. "Besides, don't you have some cooking to do?"

"Don't worry, just because you are the musical one, doesn't mean I don't know my way around a piano," He stated before resting his long fingers on the lower pitched keys as she took the higher. "Now come on, if you want any food, you've got to earn it."

"Hey, I didn't agree to those conditions! I thought you were doing something nice for me!"

"I am, I'm pushing you to work on this piece of yours," He stated matter-of-factly. "Play what you have already.

Emylee smiled at her brother before settling her hands on the keys, a melody humming about the apartment once again.

* * *

Emylee bid her brother farewell after stuffing her plate into the dishwasher, rubbing her hand over her stomach with glee over the delicious meal as she retired to her room. As she slipped the door shut behind her, her eyes skimmed towards the window, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of a little, ebony bat perched upon the ledge. She stared at it, wide-eyed with shock, her hands shaking nervously as she kept her gaze locked on the bat.

_Is it Lucas? _She thought anxiously, unable to break her frightened gaze from its dark eyes.

She felt her nerves relax, her shoulders slumping forward as suddenly the dark-haired Izabela took the bat's place, curling her hand into a fist and tapping it along the glass.

"Don't worry, it's just me," She stated. "Can you let me in?"

"Sorry, I just locked the windows for precaution." Emylee admitted as she flicked the lock open and peeled the barrier open for Izabela to sit inside.

"No, I understand," She replied with a nod, closing the window behind her, clicking the lock safely back into place. "I'll give you a tip; Lucas has purple eyes, so he will be pretty much the only purple eyed bat around here. But, where are all the supplies I told you to get just in case Lucas does show up?"

"I put them all together under the bed for easy access, but out of the way enough so that you can still be in my room." Emylee replied casually as she climbed onto her bed, despite the fear that raced through her veins at the mere thought of Lucas, let alone the sight of him.

"Well, I guess that makes sense and thanks for the consideration," Izabela soothed with a comforting smile on her pale lips as she sat herself on the root of the bed whilst Emylee scrambled under the duvet with a chill. "How have you been doing? Sorry for not coming earlier."

"That's okay," She whispered. "My brother and I spent some time together, worked on a piano piece I started and he made me my favourite dinner."

She noticed Izabela's eyes widen in disbelief at the genuine smile forming upon Emylee's full rosy lips and could not help, but chuckle gently.

"Don't be so surprised, I know I'm not doing so well right now," Emylee stated with her smile dropping slightly. "But I haven't lost the muscles needed to smile and I can still enjoy a few things, to a degree at least."

Izabela kicked off her shoes before turning to face the bright-haired human, folding her legs in a criss-crossed manner. She rested her elbows on her knees, lacing her fingers together as a platform on which to rest her chin as her dark jade eyes stared into Emylee's dark chocolate ones.

"I need to admit something," Izabela murmured sheepishly, her gaze dropping to the bedspread as Emylee's arched a pierced eyebrow at her curiously. "I managed to track down where Rocco and his friends are staying to try and find Rocco and give him a talking to."

"Oh? How did that go?" She squeaked, leaning forward with interest in her widened orbs that were free of any make-up these days.

"Well, it went _okay_," Izabela's voice trailed off at the memory before she shook her head free of the thoughts and continued. "I got to the graveyard and their little section of it, but the only person who was there was Claude... In his underwear..."

Izabela buried her face in her hands at her cheeks blushed deep crimson once again at the memory, Emylee staring at her with wide brown eyes of disbelief before snorting with laugher.

"Really?" She asked in between giggles.

"Yes, really, I would _not _joke about something that repulsive!" Izabela hissed, despite the fact that both girls knew it was a lie that Claude's exposed body could be repulsive, even if Claude was not Emylee's type. "I tried to find out where Rocco had gone and we ended up at one another's throats, arguing away once again. I sort of pushed a certain button when I insulted him about his parents and let's just say he got _physical_."

"Did he hit you?" Emylee gasped in disbelief before sighing in relief as Izabela shook her head vigorously.

"I _wish _he had hit me, it'd be less embarrassing than what actually happened," She groaned at the memory, but she knew she had to get it off her chest and Emylee was the only one she was comfortable telling it to. "He sort of grabbed me and threw me against a wall before," She gulped nervously. "Before pinning me to it and somehow we ended up kissing..."

She trailed off as Emylee gasped once more. After her eyes returned to their normal size, she scooted out of the duvet to sit beside Izabela, nudging her in the ribs gently with her elbow.

"Then what did you do? And if you kissed, what the hell are you doing here with a downer like me?"

"Well, I pushed him off and ran, to be more precise, I ran _here_." She whispered awkwardly, hanging her head at Emylee's dumbfounded expression.

"Why the hell did you do that?" She blurted in confusion, running a hand through her crimson tangles before laughing under her breath once more. "You are _so _strange, Iz. Do you just not know what to do when you like a boy? Have you never even liked one before?"

Emylee's jokes soon ceased as she noticed Izabela's serious expression upon her bowed head, her jet black locks shadowing her pallid visage in shame.

"You've _never _like anyone before?" Emylee enquired in disbelief. "Wow."

"I know it's weird, but I'm not exactly what you call a social person and most people irk the hell out of me," Izabela admitted before burying her face in her hands once more in frustration. "Plus my parents have the strangest rules ever. We aren't supposed to hunt for ourselves, we have _weaker _vampires do it for us and we are only allowed to take our first hunt when we choose our mate for life and essentially marry one another. Petty relationships or flings are not permitted; they say I have to find myself a powerful full-vampire and bond with him for eternity."

"Damn, talk about strict," Emylee muttered under her breath. "At least Claude is a vampire though."

"But he's not a full one by birth, to _my _kind of vampires, he has essentially dirty genes," She explained, her pallid features sinking with misery. "He was born an outcast, and thus has poor genes and would not be a good mate for anyone with genes such as mine."

"Well that's just bullshit," Emylee snapped with a shake of her head. "You're acting like Rocco is with me; you're making up excuses not to be with someone you really care about. Just because I'm human doesn't mean he shouldn't be with me, just as Claude being born a half-vampire doesn't mean you shouldn't be with him."

"This is just so complicated," She groaned, collapsing back on the bed, slapping her palm against her forehead dramatically. "And horribly embarrassing. I don't want to admit that I _like _him, it's humiliating and he'll just be a prick about it."

"You're a vampire, grow a pair," Emylee taunted, lying down flat on her back alongside Izabela with a roll of her eyes. "I know it's your first crush and it's scary, but it'll just get worse if you don't tell him."

"Fine, I'll tell him, but once I've done that," Izabela hissed, turning on her side to point at Emylee accusingly. "You and I are going to find Rocco and _you _are going to _talk _to him."

"Agreed. But I can't promise I will do more talking than swearing or slapping." She growled.

"That's perfectly okay with me," Izabela replied with a shrug. "Rocco deserves it."

"Careful, he may be acting like an arse, but he is still my boyfriend. So only I get to insult him."


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Hello! So... I think this is going to end soon. D: Which sucks. I think it'll be two more chapters or so, but they will be longish. Not short. Maybe more if I split up chapters, but those would just be fillers in retrospect... I'm not sure what to do. D; But I'm excited to end this... AND START ON A SEQUEL! Anyway, hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. Lucas gets on my nerves. 8| What a pain in the butt. I want to get the next few chapters out, but I'm hanging out with someone later, so I don't know if I'll have time... I PRAY TO THE WRITING GODS THAT I CAN! XD

* * *

_**Chapter Nineteen**_

"Where do you keep going every night, Izabela?"

Her mother, Aurora Varian, enquired as she laced her into the full steel boned corset she had bullied her eldest daughter into wearing. Izabela squeaked as air was forced out of her lungs with each jerk of the corset until her mother finished tying it shut, securing the lacing with a tight bow. She smoothed out the skirt that fell about Izabela's legs before stepping back and glancing over Izabela's figure.

"Nowhere." She muttered, glancing at herself as well with a frown pulling at the edges of her lips.

The seventeen-year-old vampire was not dressed for comfort. A floor-length, dark violet mermaid skirt clinging to her thighs before falling about her legs, clung to her thighs before loosening below her knees, shadowing her feet which were slipped into a pair of heavily laced ebony heels. The sweetheart-styled corset that her torso was compressed into accentuated her developed bust whilst hugging her small waist, the corset having an ebony base with a dark violet, Victorian lace design that matched the dark colour of the skirt. Her hair had been forcibly curled, half of it styled up with her bangs neatly pinned to the side, whilst the back of her locks were left free to bounce about her shoulder blades in a waterfall of charcoal spirals.

"Now I just need to do your make-up." Her mother chimed, her tall model-like figure dressed in an ebony and dark crimson Victorian dress whilst her golden locks were pinned up in an array of curls.

"No, mother," Izabela hissed, backing away from her with a snarl. "I will _not _wear any make-up."

"Don't you want to look nice for the Drakov's?"

"I'm wearing a corset, Aurora, I have sacrificed enough." She snapped, even using her mother's first name with a frown on her lips.

"Fine, Izabela," Aurora surrendered, throwing her hands up in the air in defeat. "And get that bar out of your eyebrow, I will _not _tolerate that, not tonight. This is a _formal _occasion."

"Okay, I'll take it out," She muttered, removing it and slipping it into her small purse before pointing to her bare right eyebrow with a sneer. "Happy now?"

"Yes, my dear, I am," Aurora smirked. "Come now, your father and Violeta are waiting. The Drakovs will be here soon."

"Might as well get this evening over with." Izabela muttered under her breath, ignoring her mother's glare as she followed her out of the powder room.

They entered a gargantuan parlour, a glossy ebony grand piano sitting at one end whilst a lounge area made up of plush loveseats and armchairs sat around an elegant, antique coffee table. Ciprian was perched upon an armchair, his athletic figure dressed in an impeccably Victorian suit whilst his jet black locks were combed out of his handsome face, exposing his high cheekbones and pointed elfin ears. His dark emerald eyes–which matched Izabela's exactly–darted towards his wife and eldest daughter, a smile manifesting itself on his lips.

"You two look beautiful." He complimented charmingly.

"What about me, father?" Violeta pouted, folding her arms over her chest.

"You look as adorable as ever, Violeta." He beamed before she squealed, pleased with her compliment.

Violeta's dainty, ballerina figure was compressed into a ruffled, pastel pink Lolita dress decorated with an ivory trim, a pair of ivory knee-high socks complete with rose-coloured bows, and a pair of white Mary Jane flats. Her dark chocolate hair fell loosely to the small of her back in an array of ringlet curls, framing her fair cherub features whilst her thick front fringe brushed over her large, hazel-coloured orbs. As she too noticed Izabela and their mother, she patted the place beside her on the couch, gesturing for Izabela to sit with one of her white laced glove clad hands.

"Father is right, you _do _look beautiful, Izabela." She beamed in a high-pitched voice as Izabela swept towards the seat beside her.

Suddenly, a hand curled around her elbow halting her in her tracks. She turned on her heel to glare up at her mother, dumbfounded. Her dark brown eyes were narrowed, but a kind, sly smile was spreading across her plump lips.

"You cannot sit with your little sister," She instructed, releasing her tight grasp on Izabela's elbow before gesturing towards a more seclude loveseat. "You must sit there to keep Lucas company, neither of you would enjoy yourselves amongst the adults and your little sister."

Izabela rolled her eyes as she tore herself away from her mother, stalking towards the loveseat before crashing into it with a murderous expression on her fair features. She folded her arms over her chest as a stiff silence settled between the Varian family as they awaited the arrival of the guests. A few minutes later, Edgar slipped gracefully into the room, his tall, skeletal figure dressed in a pin-stripe, flawlessly pressed suit with his long silver locks tied back out of his gaunt, elfin face. His dull grey eyes glanced about the room before presenting the figures behind him.

"Master and Mistress Varian, the Drakovs have arrived." He exclaimed in a monotonous voice as the family waltzed into the room with their noses proudly in the air, dismissing the lesser vampire with glares of disgust.

"Thank you, Edgar, please bring our guests some goblets." Aurora instructed before he nodded, bowed, and swept out of the room.

Aurora and Ciprian climbed to their feet, shaking the hands of Drakov's parents before gesturing for Lucas to join Izabela to the side as the idle conversation began between the quartet of snobbish adult. Lucas sauntered towards Izabela with a feline grace about his tall, finely chiselled athletic body which was dressed in a pair of slim-fitting ebony slacks that sagged slightly about his slim hips, an ebony button-up top, and a dark violet skinny tie.

His almond-shaped dark lavender orbs were narrowed seductively, sitting on either side of a straight nose whilst his thin lips were twisted into a wicked smirk, decorated by a pair of rings pierced through is bottom lip in a snake-bite style. His scene-styled hair framed his handsome, paper-white face, dark purple streaks seeping through the ebony, tinged sapphire colouring. The many piercings dotted along his pointed ears had been removed apart from his size 2 gauges. His formal appearance earned himself a glare from Izabela despite that she was well-aware that his parents, like her own had done to her, had forced him into such attire.

"Good evening, Izabela," He soothed, elegantly taking his place alongside her, slipping an arm around her shoulders. "It has been a while."

"Thankfully," She muttered, faking a retch before peeling his arm off of her, glaring at him murderously. "And do _not_ try and touch me or I _will_ murder you."

"I do love that feisty attitude of yours," He purred, leaning towards her, their faces mere millimetres apart as he whispered darkly. "How is your delectable little snack doing these days?"

"You stay away from her," She growled threateningly despite her lowered tone to prevent the other vampires from overhearing their conversation. "Or so help me, I will fucking rip you to shreds on the spot."

"Getting a little too attached to her, aren't we?" He taunted with a cruel, humourless laugh. "Is she your only friend? Do you forget that she is our food? It is almost as bad as your new found friendship with those imitation vampires."

"You are one to talk," She scoffed with a roll of her eyes, forcibly pushing him away from her. "Were you not the one trying to get into Kat's pants a few months ago? So I would hold your tongue right about now before I tear it out."

"Just remember, I _always _get what I want," He sneered. "Rocco has already abandoned her and soon you will too. Then I will do whatever I like."

"Your parents will not permit you to feed on anyone until you have a mate," She snapped back. "Unless you are planning to try and turn Emylee, which she will _not _consent to, meaning no covenant ceremony which your parents will want if you want to be with a human. So just give it up, leave all of us alone, you pathetic prick."

"Whatever you say, Izabela, for now at least," He murmured, his eyes skating from her to his parents before narrowing mischievously. "But you cannot keep me away from Emylee forever, nor can my parents."

Izabela curled her hands into tight fists, her ebony-coated nails digging into the palms of her hand, but before she could swing one of the fists across Lucas' smug visage, a shrill voice paralysed her on the spot.

"Izabela dearest," Her mother chimed, beckoning the young vampire from her seat with a curl of a long, spidery finger. "Won't you show Lucas your beautiful melodies? She is quite the talented pianist, I assure you."

"What a delightful skill," Rexander Drakov, Lucas' father boomed with a small smile, his gaze darting from Izabela to Lucas. "Especially for a vampire of your age, would you not agree, son?"

"Of course," Lucas politely replied with a smile but sly on his thin lips. "And I would love to hear the products of such talent."

"And Izabela would be happy to oblige," Ciprian responded before glancing at his daughter warningly. "Would you not?"

"I am _more _than happy to." She beamed back with false enthusiasm before shooting Lucas a sour glare as she made her way towards the grand piano on the other end of the room.

She realised she could take solace in one thing as she perched herself upon the stiff stool before the ebony piano, at least she was as far away from Lucas as physically possible at the moment. She felt a sense of triumph at the thought, a sneaky smile dancing across her pale lips as her fingers began to prance across the keys, creating a dark harmony.

"Izabela is a wonderful girl, you and Aurora must be proud," Rexander admitted, Izabela finding herself listening in on the conversation at the mention of her name. "With the talent and beauty you two have given her, she will make her future partner very happy."

"We are," Ciprian beamed back, tossing his wife a smile before continuing. "And Lucas has truly grown up into a strapping young man."

"Thank you, Cirprian." Irma responded before Izabela rolled her eyes and tuned out the idle conversation.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Izabela rubbed the buds of her fingers against her exhausted eyes, a smile breaking across her lips as she could hear the pleasant goodbyes exchanged between her parents and the Drakovs, breaking her from her trance to signal their departure. She closed the lid over the keys, climbing to her feet with excitement, but as she turned on her heel, she came face to face with a familiar pair of deep violet orbs.

"Our parents wanted me to bid your fair well myself." He whispered, stepping nearer to her, their bodies barely a millimetre apart.

He leaned over her, following as she leaned back until her hands swept backwards, pressing against the lid covering the piano keys to stop herself from tumbling backwards as she tried to escape Lucas. Suddenly she felt his large hands cover her dainty ones, his toned arms pressing against her own, pinning her above the piano as his well-defined torso hovered over her corset-clad one. His gaze dropped from her irritated expression to her accentuated bust, his trademark, wicked smirk slithering across his thin lips.

"This is a sight I could get used to." He whispered, running his tongue over his sharpened canines. "If only you too were a human with such delectable blood.

"Goodbye, Drakov." Izabela snapped with a roll of her eyes, trying to tug her hands free of his strong ones.

"What? No kiss? You don't have to pretend in here, we are all alone," He teased with a seductive tone. "I know you are simply jealous of my desire for Emylee. So don't you worry, I will make time for you too, especially after I have finished with her delicious blood."

"That is what you think is going on?" This time it was Izabela's turn to bark a cruel laugh, her lips twisting into a sneer. "I feel pity for any girl that receives your desire, let alone lets you defile her, something you will _not _be doing to a certain bright-haired human."

"We will just see about that," His tone became darker yet his alluring, narrowed gaze did not falter as he ran a single finger along the nape of Izabela's neck, his touch dropping to her bust line. "I have ways to _persuade _both you and her to see things my way."

Fury flooded over Izabela as she tore herself free of his grasp, pressing her hands to his torso, forcibly throttling him away from her in the split second before she collapsed onto the piano stool, her hands no longer supporting her own figure. She quickly straightened herself upright upon the stool before glaring at Lucas as he picked himself off of the floor, dusting off his clothes with a cunning smirk.

"I really _do _get under your skin," He murmured, clearly pleased with himself. "It is only a matter of time until I have full access to your body and that of the human."

"Just get the hell out of here!" Izabela shouted, fed up with the imbecile's company as she swung herself around on the stool to face the piano, leaving Lucas to stare at her back dismissively. "Before I fucking make you leave and you _will _regret _that_."

After hearing his footsteps–and manic chuckling–fade out of the room to rejoin his parents, Izabela dropped her glare to the lid, peeling back the piano keys and pounding her fingers along them, creating a booming march of war. Her fair expression twisted further and further with malice as her furious playing continued, images of Lucas' smug smirk fuelling her murderous anger.

It was only when she felt long, chilled fingers brush over her own that her playing halted, her movements paralysed by the electrifying touch as she felt the beholder press his chiselled chest to her curved back. She felt her eyes widen in shock. Was Lucas back to taunt her some more? Her gut twisted with rage as she prepared to whip around and plough her fist through his face, something he greatly deserved.

"I would prefer something much softer." The voice tickled over her ears, her anger evaporating at the recognisable voice.

"What are you doing here?" She murmured, tearing her fingers gently from his.

She stood from the stool, moving herself away from the man before turning to face him. Claude towered over her, even with her height emphasized by heels, his athletic figure dressed in a pair of skin-tight ebony jeans and a scarlet, short-sleeved shirt that revealed the ebony flamed tattoos about his wrists. His dark chocolate eyes narrowed at her in confusion as she felt her gaze drop to his well-shaped lips, the ring clinging to his plump bottom lip teasing her as she longed to feel its chilled touch once again amongst a heated kiss. She quickly shook the thoughts from her head before glaring up at him.

"I said what are you doing here?" She hissed in a lowered voice so that the rest of the Varian household would not overhear.

"I'm here to see you, if that wasn't already obvious." He retorted in a matter-of-fact tone.

"How did you even find my home? Did you just follow me here?" She snapped suspiciously.

"A big, Victorian mansion is not exactly subtle," He muttered with a roll of his eyes. "Besides, we _need _to talk."

"About what?"

"What do you think?" He exclaimed, irked by her dismissive tone. "You can't just kiss a guy and then run off. That's not how things work."

"How would you know? Are you that well-versed in kissing men?" She mocked with a twitch of her upper lip.

"Oh a homosexuality joke, how witty," He sneered sarcastically. "Just tell me why you kissed me. Do you like me? Or was it just a way of sadistically messing with me?"

"Wow, you sound like a woman," She muttered before remembering Emylee's words. She mentally cursed the wisdom of the human before admitting defeat, her tone becoming soft and genuine. "Look, I promise I did not do it to mess with you. I'm not even sure how I'd go about doing that anyway. And I'll explain everything to you, just not _here_."

"Then where? I want to know now." He growled with a raised voice.

"Just be quiet, I don't need my parents or sister knowing you are here," She scolded with a frown. "They aren't exactly going to be welcoming if they find out that you are here. Come with me, we can talk about this in my room."

"In your room?" He blurted in disbelief. "Is this just a way to get me alone for some more private antics?"

"Get your mind out of the gutter, there's no way in hell we are doing anything of that sort," She snapped, crushing his hopes of a make-out session–or more–immediately before continuing. "But if you want me to tell you how I feel, I would rather it be in private. Plus as I said, my family will not welcome you here."

Izabela extended her hand towards him gently before rolling her eyes as he eyed it as if it were rigged to explode.

"Just take my hand, I'm not going to kill you or anything," She stated with a frown. "I promise I will explain _everything_ if you come with me, okay?"

"Okay," Claude surrendered, taking her hand in his large one and lacing their fingers together tenderly before a smirk danced across his lips at the bright scarlet coloured that was gathering on her cheeks nervously. "But can you just answer me one thing?"

"What?" She muttered ducking her head to hide her embarrassment as they cautiously ascended the stairs to her bedroom.

"I was wondering if you wanted the title of my girlfriend," He soothed coyly. "No one else has it. Plus I could get used to more kisses like that and you know, everything else that comes with a relationship."

She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyebrows arched in disbelief over her widened eyes that scanned his serious expression. A single word brushed through her lips as butterflies of excitement erupted through her innards, sending her mind into an excited vertigo.

"Okay."


	20. Chapter Twenty

Bah, I wanted to write this/post it ages ago, but I stayed the night at someone's house and when I was going to go home on the train (we live farish apart), all the trains were cancelled because someone had committed suicide on the tracks just south of the station I was at. D: So I only got home at about 5 on Saturday and we've been moving house today. D: Much for me to do. But here is the penultimate chapter. :3

I'm up at 2:30 finishing this for you! BE HAPPY WITH ME! XD I can't even reply to my messages on here because I need to get to bed. But hey... I got the chapter out! And I'll work on the epilogue tomorrow and hopefully get it out too.

* * *

_**Chapter Twenty**_

Emylee climbed out of the bus with her brother in tow, her ebony flat clad feet pattering down the stairs before squeaking lightly as she hopped onto the pavement. She had dressed herself as formally as she felt comfortable, a jet black pencil skirt clinging to her long legs whilst an ivory blouse was moulded to the curves of her torso. Her scarlet, hazardously layered tangles were tied back loosely, several bright strands falling free to frame her fair, heart-shaped face that was free of any of its usual piercings apart from a diamond stud threaded through her nostril. K.C. walked alongside her, his tall figured dressed even more formally, an impeccable darkly-coloured suit hanging about his lanky form whilst his chocolate brown tangles were combed neatly out of his handsome, masculine face.

"It's strange seeing you dressed like _that_," Emylee admitted, glancing up at her brother before dropping her gaze back to the bouquet of persimmon orange roses that she cradled in her arms like a newborn baby. "It's like seeing an eclipse."

"_You _are one to talk," He taunted playfully. "Even as a child, you refused to wear anything fancy. Mum, dad, and I used to have to wrestle you into the dresses mum picked out for special occasions."

"Just like they would have to tranquilise you to brush that crazy mane of yours," She retorted with a wide grin at the memories flooding over her before gesturing towards the aromatic roses. "Although, it seems even our parents had _eccentric_ tastes."

"That's true; mum always hated any flower of a common colour. And dad never let his hair be any shorter than his waist," K.C. suddenly snorted with laughter. "Oh god, you should have seen the faces of the teachers and other parents at your school whenever dad came to pick you up or talk to teachers, it was hilarious."

Emylee found herself overwhelmed with giggles as well at the memory of the gawking faces staring in awe–and possibly snobbish disgust–at the abnormal parents and their equally unusual children who sat a bizarre fifteen years apart in age. She remembered loving whenever her parents came to school, especially as the other children stared enviously, wishing their own parents were as amazing as hers. She also remembered how others commented on how similar she looked to her mother at her age and it was true, even when comparing photographs; Emylee could see what they meant.

Suddenly, the grin that had spread across her full rosy lips at the memory fell, her brother's chuckling subsiding as a pair of towering iron gates stood before them, opening into a lush emerald graveyard. Emylee glanced up at her brother, smiling weakly before entering the cemetery alongside him. As they made their way along the winding dirt path framed by the lush, emerald grass that gathered about the ashen gravestones, decorated by bouquets of flowers laid in respect of those who had left the land of the living. Emylee held the neat bunch of roses tighter to her chest, watching other families hunched over the gravestones of their loved ones, their eyes rimmed with tears whilst the Rusking siblings walked by, heading towards their own site of mourning.

"Thank you for doing this with me." Emylee murmured into the persimmon buds, but her solemn tone was directed towards her older brother.

"Well, it was about time," He soothed with a small smile on his thin lips. "Plus mum and dad would be proud to see what a wonderful young woman you've grown up into."

"Way to make it sappy," She teased as her heart filled with happiness at the idea that her parents would be proud of who she grew up into. "But thanks, they would be proud of you too for taking care of me."

"I'm glad we're doing this." He admitted, slipping a tattooed arm around her shoulders, squeezing her into a partial embrace as they weaved through the maze of headstones.

A few minutes later, Emylee felt the arm around her shoulder tighten, tugging her to a halt before a pair of matching gravestones of a darkened ashen colour. The inscription on each of the curved stones ended in the word _Rusking_, alerting the siblings to their parents' final resting place. Emylee gulped nervously, nervously separating from her brother to kneel before her mother's grave, settling the blooming orange roses before the headstone sadly. She retreated to her brother's side, sighing to herself whilst he glanced down at her supportively.

As the mournful pair finished paying their respects to their parents, Emylee felt a chill brush over her amongst the evening breeze, sending a burst of shivers through her figure as she titled her head towards the sky, noting the darkened clouds gathering overhead, a distant hum of thunder brushing over her. She wrapped her arms around her waist, hugging her figure tightly before rubbing her sides in a desperate attempt to warm her figure.

"It looks like it's going to rain," She muttered, hanging her head once again, reluctantly glancing back at the graves miserably. "We had better head home soon."

"Good idea, it _is _getting late. And you also look like you are about to freeze." K.C. added with a roll of his dark eyes.

"I can't help it if I don't like the cold." She mumbled with a frown as she still struggled to warm herself up.

"That's not the problem," He corrected. "It's the fact that you're cold and we barely even have a season cold enough to be classified as winter."

"Oh just shut up, you're just a freak who–" Emylee felt her vocal cords paralyse as she turned to continue down the path, her eyes widening at the figure that stood before her brother and her.

"Rocco?" She blurted, her brother quickly whipping towards him with a sneer on his face.

Rocco towered over the Rusking siblings, a pair of ebony, slim-fitting jeans clinging to his long legs whilst a grey-coloured, hooded sweatshirt hugged his well-built torso, the hood pulled up over his untameable mop of dark hair whilst his hands were stuffed into the pockets. His trademark spiked collar clung to his neck as well as the usual gauges that were pierced through the lobes of his ears. His deep ashen orbs glanced down at Emylee, not bothering to acknowledge her brother's infuriated expression as his eyebrows arched in surprise down at her.

"Emylee, what are you doing here?" He asked in puzzlement, unable to break his gaze from her deep chocolate eyes.

"The question is what are _you _doing here," K.C. interrupted the pair lividly, his hands curled into tight fists, unfazed by Rocco's daunting size. "You can leave my little sister alone right now or I'll have to remove you by force."

"K.C. calm down," Emylee hissed through her teeth before raising an eyebrow at Rocco suspiciously. "Although he does have a point, why are you here?"

"I need to talk to you," He stated, his gaze now upon her older brother. "_Privately_."

"Hell no," He barked back furiously before Emylee could even begin to respond. "Why don't you just fuck off? She owes you nothing after what you did to her, especially when you interrupt us visiting our parents. C'mon Emylee, we should head home."

"I _do _want to talk to him though." She squeaked, desperate to demand answers to her many questions.

"Emylee, you said you were cold, we should get you inside before you get ill."

"Just wait for me by the bus stop," She growled with growing irritation at her brother's protests. "I'll be there in a moment."

"But–"

"_Now_, K.C.," She interrupted firmly before her expression softened. "I know you are looking out for me, but I _need_ to sort this out. If I need you, I'll find you, I promise."

After shooting Rocco one last foul glare, K.C. reluctantly complied, kissing his sister upon the top of her head before bidding her farewell. Emylee pursed her lips into a frown once the two were standing alone, folding her arms over her torso as Rocco cleared his throat nervously.

"You are visiting your parents?" He enquired.

"They passed away when I was little," She retorted curtly, not wishing to discuss the painful topic in the slightest nor deviate from the many questions that bombarded through her psyche. "They were in a car accident."

"I'm so sorry." Rocco soothed genuinely as she shrugged, her gaze now dropping to the ground. It was the usual response one received and hopefully, like the others, Rocco would not push the topic any further as Emylee struggled to discuss it even with her own brother.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" She piped, interrupting the stiff silence that hung about the duo.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing, I guess..." He mumbled, struggling to find the words he desired. "I saw you here and just wanted to... Check..."

"Oh, well I have fucking brilliant after a vampire tried to attack me and you decided to cut off all contact with me," She snarled, her voice drenched in sarcasm. "I mean, who wouldn't be high on life after what you did?"

"How do you know about vampires?" He exclaimed dumbfounded.

"How do you fucking think I know?" She snapped angrily. "And _that _is what you pick out? No apology for what you did to me or anything?"

"Finding out someone knows about creatures of a supernatural origin sort of takes priority, especially as we are meant to be a secret," He sneered back, irritated over her demeaning tone before sighing in defeat, his expression softening. "Look, I'm sorry. I thought I was doing what was best."

"What? Hurting me for no apparent reason would solve all the problems?"

"No," Rocco growled with a roll of his eyes. "Removing you from _my _world and _my _problems would solve everything for _you_. And just so you know, these past few weeks have not been a walk in the park for me either."

"Good," Emylee retorted venomously before reluctantly swallowing her stubborn pride as she had told Izabela to do days before. "Look, Rocco, I know you were trying to help, except you did anything but that. Now you know that I'm exposed to the vampiric world regardless of what you do and I _still _want you in my life, vampire or not."

After a few more words–and countless apologies from Rocco–Emylee felt a flood of warm rush through her shuddering figure as her fingers were once again entwined through Rocco's, a position they had grown so accustomed to, as if the spaces between each of his had been made for hers. Joy erupted through her veins at the touch of his chilled flesh against her own; her heart fluttering erratically in her chest as he slowly walked her towards the cemetery gates.

"You never told me why you were here in the first place," Emylee realised, arching her eyebrows up at him inquisitively. "Or were you just following me?"

"Well," He cleared his throat awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand in embarrassment. "I actually _live _here with my friends."

"You live _here_?"

"Yeah, not all vampires sleep in a great, big mansion like Izabela," He admitted sheepishly. "Some of us just have to make do with holes in the ground, although I've never met a vampire who willingly does not sleep in a coffin. So I think we _all_ do that."

Emylee felt her heart skip a beat at the idea of sleeping in a coffin, a tiny dark space in which you were trapped until daylight faded away. It made chills run down her spine, even more so when her mind wondered towards sharing a coffin with Rocco.

Was it possible for a human to share one with a vampire? Or would it be too dangerous considering the vampire would awake starved of any feeding due to being trapped during the day? What would happen if a vampire bit a human without killing them? Would it be like in the movies? Would the human become one of them and join their vampire in immortal life?

Her head began to ache with so many questions racing about her mind, deafening her along with her pounding heartbeat. The consequences of drinking from a human without killing them was something Izabela had failed to address in Emylee's room so many nights ago.

"How does turning a human into a vampire work?" She squeaked, feeling Rocco's grip on her hand suddenly tighten at her question.

"Why do you ask?" He returned cautiously, his hard, narrowed gaze focused on the path ahead of them.

"Well, it was the one thing Izabela didn't address when I got vampires 101," She stated. "And I was just wondering how it worked, _if _it worked that is."

"It can," He corrected, considering his next words carefully. "In the most basic terms, a vampire can drink the blood of a human _without _killing them, which will essentially make them into a vampire themselves."

"Can it be any human?"

"I suppose so, I've never done it," He admitted. "But, if it is performed on sacred ground, for example this cemetery, the pair will form an eternal bond that basically withstands everything, from that moment until death."

"So essentially, till death do you part in a more literal sense," She muttered, trying to hide her strange urge to tug herself away from him at the mention that such a bond could be forged between the two at that very moment. "Does it have to be consenting?"

"Not to my knowledge," He answered before squeezing her hand once again, a small smile on his lips. "But please don't think that I have anything planned. I wouldn't even think about doing that without your consent to think about it."

"Okay," She tried to force the unsure tone out of her voice, replacing it with a tone of teasing. "So basically, you end up like a married couple or in prison for life without the chance of parole."

"Exactly," He joked back. "Often, when humans are changed into vampires, with their consent that is, there is a covenant ceremony. If we're still going with the marriage analogy, that is essentially the wedding ceremony, during which the human is changed."

"So, in laments terms, you end up with a life-long commitment _and _all the stress of planning a wedding which can also not be during daylight hours because of the vampiric guests," Emylee rolled her eyes before grinning up at Rocco playfully. "I honestly do not know how you vampires can put up with all of that."

* * *

"Also, before anyone forgets, prom tickets are going on sale this upcoming Monday," Sabrina McGue announced to the horde of seniors who had more interest in finishing their day of school than listening to the ramblings of the head of the prom committee. "We can also help arrange limousines and vegetarian meal options if needed."

The shriek of the bell silenced the light-haired announcer, a wave of relieved sighs echoing through the classroom as students lazily shoved their books into their bags, eager to scramble their way out of the hellhole that was school. Emylee joined them in shoving her books into her tote bag, swinging it over her shoulder before glancing at Damien and Lilith who were following suit.

"I cannot wait for this year to be over," Lilith groaned, her persimmon curls bouncing about her jaw as they finally made their way out of the classroom. "I might have to burn all my work from high school."

"I'll join you in that." Damien added, flicking his dark sienna locks out of his pallid eyes.

"Before we start ranting on about how much we hate high school, I need to go to my locker and grab some things," Emylee interrupted. "I'm meeting Rocco, Izabela, and everyone else after school if you want to come."

"Maybe." The pair replied with a shrug of their shoulders before following Emylee to her locker, idly chatting amongst themselves.

"Are you guys going to go to prom?" Lilith enquired once they had arrived at one of the dully-coloured lockers that had been allocated to their comrade.

"Only if you two go." Damien returned before shifting his gaze–along with Lilith's–towards Emylee.

"I think we should go," She stated as she transferred various books from her locker to her tote bag for the weekend. "It's our last year and we haven't gone before, so we might as well go now before it's too late."

"Plus she has a boyfriend, so her date won't be one of us." Lilith added light-heartedly with a playful roll of her emerald orbs.

"If I do go through, I will need to re-dye my hair," She admitted, flicking a stray strand of faded scarlet out of her dark eyes before gesturing to her roots where a dark brown colour was bleeding through the bright fuchsia. "Or I'll end up going as half-brunette, half-redhead."

"Well, I will probably re-dye my orange too, so we can do it together," Lilith suggested before glancing at Damien sadly. "If only you were a girl, Damien, we could all dye each other's hair together."

"He doesn't have to be a girl; he just has to let us get a hold of his hair." Emylee corrected, rubbing her hands together menacingly as she gazed up at Damien.

"I'm okay being a brunette," He retorted before rolling his eyes and humouring them. "But if the day ever comes when I want to have a head of electric blue or pastel pink hair, I'll give you two a ring in a heartbeat."

"That day will never come," Emylee murmured with a false sob of misery. "It took us years to get him to let us dye highlights into his hair and he practically leapt out of his skin with joy when they faded."

"What can I say; I just suit the natural look better than you two." He beamed smugly, earning himself a backhand from Emylee in his slim stomach whilst Lilith simply rolled her eyes.

"You make it far too easy to be happy about hitting you." Lilith scowled.

"Before we begin one of your many arguments," Emylee intercepted, aware that the two got at one another's throats like an old married couple, in fact if she hadn't known better; she would have assumed the pair to be in a relationship, albeit a dysfunctional one, but she wasn't one to talk. "Have we decided that we're going to prom?"

"It looks like it."

"Good, I can see if Izabela wants to come as well," She exclaimed with a grin on her rose petal lips. "And then we can get tickets on Monday."

"Aren't you going to ask Rocco?" Damien prodded in disbelief.

"Asking implies he has the right to say no," Emylee corrected with a sly smirk replacing her wide grin. "Rocco is coming with me whether he wants to or not."

"Or I could just take his place," A voice added sultrily. "All I'd need is a few minutes alone with you to have you under my charms."

It was now Emylee's turn to roll her eyes, not needing to pull back the door of her locker to know Aiden Eastwood was leaning behind it, a smug expression on his handsome, sun-kissed features as per usual. To some degree, she was pleased that his appearances were becoming more habitual, meaning he no longer caught her off guard, although her aggravation during school hours now hit the roof because of his constant presence around her.

"That's great, Aiden, I'm sure I'd be grovelling at your feet by then," She muttered sarcastically. "But, even though I'm sure you won't listen, the answer is still and always will be _no_ to _anything _you say or ask of me. I have a boyfriend and even if I didn't, my interest in you is minimal beyond a desire to murder you."

With that, Emylee slammed her locker shut and marched away from the golden-haired athlete, her friends soon appearing at her sides, neither of them wanting to be around Aiden Eastwood for any longer than necessary. Another thing she could be thankful for was that because his appearances were becoming so common, she was finding it easier and easier to handle them, especially when she'd leave school to have the memories of his annoyances washed away by a passionate lip lock with her vampiric boyfriend.

No sooner had she burst through the doors leading into the school parking lot did the very boy on her mind appear before her, standing amongst the comrades they shared, awaiting her arrival. Rocco's frighteningly tall, chiselled body was dressed in a pair of torn slim-fitting jeans, an ebony top with a torn neckline, a canine-styled collar, and an array of wristbands. A jet black beanie was pulled over his ebony locks, trying to tame the parts that flicked out defiantly despite his many attempts to flatten them. His ears poked through the tangles, exposing the gauges that sat in them.

Kat stood beside him, leaning against the gatepost that opened up the car park out onto the street, smacking her gum in disinterest. Her dainty, ballerina figure was compressed into a skin-tight corset dress of a deep violet and ebony colouring with a lace trim, her long legs compressed into a pair of matching lace tights, the ends tucked into a pair of witch-styled boots. Her pixie cut, dark chocolate hair fell about her slanted jaw in a lopsided mess, shorter strands falling into her pallid face whilst the array of layers shimmering through her hair revealed the tones of black jetting through it. Her dark eyes were rimmed in thick charcoal, narrowed at Tripp who stood alongside her, lost within the world of his music.

Tripp gazed over the rims of his rectangular-framed glassed at his iPod that blasted music into the ivory budded earphones tucked into his ears, dismissing Kat's foul glare for him ignoring the words she threw his way. His flaxen tangles were slicked back out of his thin features, apart from his bangs which skimmed along his forehead along with a few strands left free to frame his young face. His short, skeletal figure was dressed in a pair of striped trousers, held to his miniscule waist by a bullet belt, an ivory button-down top, and an ebony waistcoat littered in a design of ivory cobwebs as well as a pair of suspenders which hung loosely from his hips.

Finally, the group was completed by the only other–albeit unlikely–couple, Claude Sterling and Izabela Varian. Claude roughly matched Rocco in height, his slimmer yet athletic figure dressed in a pair of hazardously torn, skin-tight ebony jeans and a similarly-coloured top with the logo of a death metal band printed on the chest. His mop of wispy platinum blonde locks fell about his neck loosely, framing his attractive face whilst tones of ebony highlighted out from his roots. A silver ring clung to his bottom lip, glinting as his lips curled into a smirk at Izabela as she struggled out of his arms, infuriated by his public displays of affection, as per usual.

Her long, ebony tangles bounced about her shoulder blades in a mess of layers as she scrambled for freedom from his tight grip on her miniscule waist. Her side-swept bangs held a violet undertone that bled through as they fell into her dark emerald eyes which were narrowed into a furious glare at her inappropriate boyfriend. A silver bar was pierced through her eyebrow, matching the many piercings littered along the dips and crevices of her pointed ears. She had dressed herself in a less extravagant fashion to particularly Kat, her legs moulded into a pair of ebony and violet plaid, skin-tight trousers, the ends stuffed into a pair of combat boots, whilst her torso was compressed into a plain, ebony top that was hidden beneath a black leather jacket recognisable as Claude's.

Emylee could not help but smile at the odd group of friends she had as she made her way to them, aware that the cluster of vampires must have been pleased that the winter months had rolled in, allowing them to prowl about the town at earlier hours as the days grew shorter and the nights grew longer. Rocco's eyes darted towards the bright-haired human, the ashen orbs twinkling with delight as they landed on her once she had waltzed up alongside him.

As she greeted the rest of the group, Emylee felt Rocco's hand slide into her own, lacing their fingers together lovingly. She could not help but smile at her boyfriend's soft touch and the company of her close friends, knowing that if moments such as these were in her life, it would be a happy one.


	21. Epilogue

Oh wow, this is the end. D: I can't believe it. I _will _be writing a sequel soonish, if you want me to message you or anything when it comes out I can. ^^ I'm excited to write the sequel when I do. :3 It will be fun. ^^Anyway, this is the last chapter. Enjoy. *flicks away tear* I feel like my baby is leaving for university or something. XD Gah, I need to stop rambling so we can get on with that chapter. I just feel like I should say something meaningful here... But I've got nothing. xD Tehehe. Enjoy.

* * *

_**Epilogue**_

Emylee glanced at herself in the floor-length mirror anxiously. Her freshly de-dyed, blood red tangles bounced about her waist loosely in a waterfall of lustrous spirals, shades of dark fuchsia highlighting out from her roots through her well-layered locks in which a miniature, ebony rose fascinator was fashioned, its lace trim shadowing her vibrant curls. Shorter ringlets framed her fair, heart-shaped face whilst her side-swept bangs skimmed along her thin eyebrows, one of which was pierced with an ebony stud, which sat above her sparkling dark chocolate orbs which were framed by long, glossy lashes that brushed gently over her cherub cheeks with each blink. Her deep eyes were rimmed by thick charcoal liner along with a splash of dark ashen shadow upon the upper lids, whereas her plump lips were coated in a layer of scarlet-coloured gloss. The crevices of her ears were aligned with an array of piercings beneath her curls, matching the ebony Monroe stud piercing above her lip as well as the silver ring that hugged her nostril.

A silver necklace was laced around her neck, the pendant sitting below her exposed collarbone, decorated in shimmering rubies, a matching set of silver bracelets clinging to her wrists. Her curvaceous figure was compressed into an ebony-coloured, strapless gown, the torso clinging tightly to her developed bust and miniscule waist before framing her hips and hugging her long, slim legs, a slit running up the side of one of her thighs.

As she stared at her reflection, Emylee began to wonder how her vampire companions could survive without a reflection. Every morning she would see her own reflection to apply her make-up or glance over her appearance analytically. It was astonishing to her that vampires could look so utterly gorgeous without being able to see it themselves, everyone used a reflection, male or female, confident or insecure. It was one thing for the males to look so attractive, as most did not wear any enhancements nor care all too much how they looked, human or vampire, but it was Kat and Izabela who surprised Emylee even more. She wondered how they did not end up leaving their coffins with their hazardously layered tangles falling about in a chaotic mess or with their make-up streaming down their pallid faces, yet somehow they managed to look their best at any time.

Soon Emylee found her mind wandering towards what _she _would do without a reflection, if the time ever came. She began to feel anxiety build up inside of her at the idea of being transformed into a creature of the night, losing all the advantages of a mortal life, her friends, what was left of her family. Emylee shook the distressing thoughts from her mind, before slipping her feet into a pair of strapped, jet black stilettos as the irked voice of her older brother echoed through the apartment.

"Emylee, your date is here." He snarled, his words ending with the sound of his bedroom door slamming shut.

Emylee sighed nervously, glancing at the tabby cat curled up upon her bed, watching her curiously.

"Okay, it's time to go," She admitted, snatching her purse from the bedside table before beamed at the tabby. "How do I look, Meeko?"

Satisfied with the cat's purring as a response, Emylee scurried out of the room, holding her breath as she came face-to-face with her boyfriend of nearly a year. A mop of charcoal black tangles was combed neatly about his handsome, pale visage, exposing the gauges threaded through his ears with several strands flicking out defiantly, unable to be hidden beneath his usual beanie on such a formal occasion. His perfectly chiselled, athletic torso was compressed into a grey, button-down shirt with an ebony-coloured, skinny tie threaded through the collar, falling down the centre of his chest. A pair of slim-fit, finely pressed ebony slacks framed his long legs, the hems falling about the sleek, jet black dress shoes into which his feet were slipped. His ashen eyes darted towards Emylee, widening in disbelief as his mouth dropped open dramatically.

"You look gorgeous," He gawked, ignoring the crimson colour that was forming on her cheeks in embarrassment. "Fuck that, you look _beyond _gorgeous. You look mind-blowing."

"Thank you, you don't look too shabby either," She teased with a smile, pecking him on the lips gently, thankful that her high heels aided her in reaching his towering height. "Couldn't bring yourself to wear a suit, could you?"

"Sorry, I thought this would be okay, but if you–" Emylee's giggles interrupted him mid-sentence as she slipped her hand into his, entwining her fingers through his.

"I was only teasing, Rocco," She beamed with a playful grin. "You look wonderful. Thank you for doing this for me."

"That's perfectly alright, I never really had a senior prom, so I guess I'm making up for it now." He replied, pressing his lips tenderly to hers before the shrieking of her mobile phone interrupted the pair.

"Damien and Lilith are outside," Emylee exclaimed after reading the reading the text message before stuffing her phone back into her miniature purse. "Shall we get this show on the road?"

"Of course."

With that, the couple exited the Rusking apartment, descending down the concrete stairs of the apartment block that led towards the exit where her comrades would be waiting impatiently. As they reached the foot of the stairs, Rocco squeezed Emylee's hand supportively before they slipped into the crisp evening air of early summer, approaching the worn-out van belonging to Damien Grey.

Suddenly, the doors flung open to reveal the tall, slender figure of Lilith Snow, an excited grin spreading across her plump, rose petal lips. Her model-like figure was compressed into a fairy dress decorated in shades of ivory, the layered hem of the loose skirt falling about her knees whilst the top clung to her chest tightly with spaghetti straps slipped around her otherwise bare shoulders. Her feet were slipped into a pair of white pumps that matched the white clips that held up her curly, persimmon orange locks, the undertone of ebony left free to frame her olive-skinned visage which was decorated by a staple piercing threaded through the bridge of her nose and her anti-brow bar. Her bright emerald orbs were rimmed in charcoal that flicked out at the edges, giving her eyes a feline shape.

"You look amazing, Emy!" She beamed, throwing her long arms around her shoulders to tug her into a tight embrace. With a shy smile, Lilith let her arms fall limp at her sides as she parted from Emylee, climbing back into the van and welcoming the couple into it. "And you look great too, Rocco."

"Thanks, you look lovely, Lilith." He replied, ignoring the grin that Emylee flashed him, pleased that he got on so well with her mortal friends.

"Is everyone strapped in and ready to go?" Damien enquired over his shoulders from the driver's seat, his crystal blue eyes widening at the sight of Emylee. "Wow, Lilith was right, you look brilliant, Emy."

Rocco bit back a scowl at the human before slithering an arm around Emylee's waist possessively, tugging her voluptuous figure into the dips and curves of his athletic one. Damien rolled his eyes, turning back to face the road with a frown as he pulled the van out of its parked position. His dark sienna brown hair was combed neatly about his slim visage, clinging to the nape of his neck whilst his tall, slender body was dressed in an impeccable ebony and ivory suit akin to the ones that many other male attendees would be wearing.

"It sucks that Izabela didn't want to come, she could've brought Claude and maybe a cute British guy with her." Lilith teased with a wiggle on her curved eyebrows.

"Calm yourself, Snow," Emylee replied with a playful roll of her eyes. "Sometimes I think you should go to England for university with that English boy obsession of yours."

"It's not just my obsession," She corrected in a matter-of-fact tone. "Every girl in America digs English boys."

"I'll make not to keep Emylee away from any of them then." Rocco added jokingly.

"Don't worry, Rocco, you're from Europe," Emylee soothed with a genuine smile on her lips. "That comes with brownie points as well."

Soon after, the quartet arrived at the hall at which the prom was being held as the sky darkened, becoming a blanket of ebony decorated in a sprinkling of stars as the sun vanished before the horizon. After pulling the van into a parking space, Damien climbed out of the driver's seat, rounding the van to peel the doors open, allowing the trio to scramble out of the back. Emylee was the last to hop out, her hand still clasped tightly by Rocco's as he helped her to the ground, watching in awe as the silver moonlight pooled about her beautiful figure, illuminating her angelically.

"Do I have something on my face?" Emylee squeaked nervously, noticing his wide-eyed stare as they made their way towards the building.

"No, sorry, you just look beautiful." He mumbled, hanging his head in embarrassment.

Emylee felt her smile grow as she stroked Rocco's cheek gently before pressing her lips to his, kissing him passionately in flattery. He slipped his arms around her waist as hers made their way around his neck, supporting her figure as she struggled to reach his height. Before their kiss could become more electrified with arousal, Damien cleared his throat, interrupting the pair with a scowl.

"Can you two hold off on the making out? We aren't even in the actual prom yet." He sneered with a roll of his eyes.

"Shut up, Damien and leave them alone." Lilith snapped, slapping him around the arm before dragging him inside.

Emylee parted from Rocco, blushing furiously before once again taking his hand in hers and leading him into the hall. The couple spent the beginning of their evening mingling with the many people Emylee was on good terms with, narrowly avoiding several run-ins with Aiden Eastwood. Normally, Emylee would be more than happy to throw several insults his way, but now that Rocco was by her side, she feared that she would not be able to stop the vampire from tearing the irritating boy's throat open with each perverted, degrading comment he would throw Emylee's way and each insult he would throw Rocco's.

As the evening grew later, the music erupting from the sound system grew slower, welcoming couples to the centre of the room to sway gently to the romantic harmonies. Emylee and Rocco tore themselves from their place in the corner in a tight lip lock to follow the other couples onto the dance floor, a place they had yet to visit that night, far too captivated by one another's bodies to join in with the fast-paced dancing.

Rocco guided her onto the floor, pulling Emylee's body to his, resting his hands on her hips whilst she slipped her arms around his neck, the pair swaying rhythmically to the music that swept about the room. As she nuzzled herself into Rocco's neck, her curled hair tickling softly over his attractive facial features, Emylee felt her mind wander back to her thoughts from hours earlier, when she stood before the mirror, wondering what would happen to her if she were turned into one of Rocco's creatures. She began to wonder if Rocco wanted to be in a switched position, to press himself to the nape of her neck, to extend his fangs and break through her skin, bringing her into his world.

Surely that was what Rocco wanted, was it not the next logical step in their relationship?

"What's wrong?" Rocco asked, noticing her tensed figure.

"Nothing, I'm just a bit tense." She lied with a small smile, desperately trying to push the thoughts out of her mind to enjoy the night with her boyfriend.

"Let me loosen you up." He whispered into her ear seductively before pressing his lips to the lobe.

His lips trailed along her jaw, dropping to her neck. As she felt his kisses settle on the nape of her neck, Emylee suddenly jolted back from him with fright.

"Please don't." She murmured, ignoring his wide-eyed expression of disbelief.

"What? Sorry, have I done something wrong?" He blurted in confusion, searching her terrified expression for an answer.

"A covenant ceremony," She managed to force out once she regained her composure before reluctantly explaining. "Turning me into a vampire, it's just... It's too much commitment for an eighteen-year-old... It's essentially us getting married. What if things change? I know everything would be easier if I was one as well, but I'm just not ready for that commitment, this is my first relationship and I'm sorry, but I really–"

"Emylee, calm down," He interrupted her hasty rambling with a concerned expression. "You need to trust me, I may be a vampire, but I told you I would never dream of doing such a thing without you being okay with it, without you wanting it."

"But it's something you want and what if I want to wait for years before doing such a thing?"

"We'll both wait until we are both ready for that kind of commitment," He explained softly, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I do not have any ulterior motives, I promise. I'm not looking for an opportunity to drink from you or anything, if I was; surely I would've done it months ago when you had no knowledge of vampires or our weaknesses."

Emylee reluctantly agreed with his claim, planting a single reassuring kiss on his lips before snuggling back into his chest, pushing the thoughts out of her head. She just wanted to enjoy the evening with her boyfriend in ignorant bliss, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew the topic was not yet over and someday, she would have to give his covenant ceremony an answer. She just didn't know what answer she would give.

* * *

Izabela tucked a stray strand of ebony out of her pallid features, securing it behind one of her heavily pierced elfin ears before resting her fingers on the piano keys that sat before her once again. She once again began to play the romantic tune that could not escape her mind, thoughts of Claude Sterling flooding through her mind. Her slanted bangs slipped into her dark jade eyes that were narrowed in concentration, whilst her plump lips were curled into a smile at the loving feelings that rushed through her body like a drug at the thought of her boyfriend.

In fact, she was so lost in her cloud of thoughts that she failed to hear her parents waltz into the room, their lips curled into smirks as they approached the grand piano, Violeta close behind them with an excited grin. It was only when her father's voice boomed through the room was she startled form her trance, the harmony trailing off into silence.

"What a beautiful tune, Izabela," Ciprian complimented, his tall athletic figure leaning against the grand piano with an arch of his eyebrow, his long jet black tangles pulled back neatly out of his well-defined, elfin features. "What is it?"

"It is an Elizabethan melody," She explained curtly, dropping her hands to her skinny jean-clad legs. "Supposedly, a royal composed it for his lover, a peasant that law would not permit him to marry. So he could only express his love in secret forms, such as a wordless melody."

"That's a beautiful story," Aurora added, running a hand through her lustrous, golden spirals. "And it's wonderful to hear that your musical talent has not faded during in our time in America."

"In fact, Rexander and Irma Drakov were telling us how impressed they and their son were by your many talents," Izabela's father admitted coyly, folding his hands behind his back as he recalled the compliments that Drakovs had thrown her way. "They said it was very impressive that a vampire of your age had so many talents and such impeccable beauty, that you would make someone the perfect mate someday."

"How kind of them, I will have to pay them my thanks when we next have them over," Izabela answered with a false smile before returning her attention to the piano before her. "If you do not mind, I would quite like to practice this famed talent of mine."

"Actually, there was something we wanted to talk to you about," Her mother stepped forward, clearing her throat before continuing. "When the Drakovs invited us over to theirs for early evening drinks, Lucas spoke with your father. According to him, you have been spending a great deal of time with Claude sterling and his friends, the half-vampires."

"They _were _half-vampires, they _are _full-vampires," Izabela corrected with a roll of her eyes, refusing to meet her mother's inquisitive gaze as she was somewhat grateful that although Lucas had revealed her time spent with Claude, he did not reveal Emylee nor Izabela's hidden relationship status with the previous half-vampire. "And what does it matter to you?"

"Your mother and I were simply wondering _why _you were wasting your time with such vampires." Ciprian admitted as his tone remained calm and collected as not to send Izabela into a defensive aggravation.

"Lucas introduced them to me," She lied, although in a way it _was _true, she had met the quartet of vampires on her first trip to the Coffin Club whilst Lucas was trying to woo Kat. "I suppose he was trying to introduce me into to the vampiric world here. Plus, he was there every time I saw the pathetic vampires, how else would he know about it?"

The last part of her response may have been a lie, but her parents seemed to happily accept her claim as the truth, exchanging knowing glances before returning their attention to their eldest daughter. Izabela simply rolled her eyes once again, fed up with the interruption of her blissful playing, now desiring nothing more than to retreat to her room and ring Claude, inviting him out for an evening as Rocco and Emylee were occupied at her high school prom, something Izabela did not find remotely appealing. She had already spent enough time in an uncomfortable gown whenever the Drakovs came over, she was not about to do it willing and for those she cared about to see and–knowing Claude and Emylee–mock her for.

"I'm going to go up to my room," Izabela muttered as she climbed to her feet, smoothing out the metal band tee that clung to her torso. "I have a few things to take care of."

"Wait," Violeta squealed, scrambling towards her sister and dragging her back down onto the stool before the piano. "You are really going to want to hear this, it's really important."

A grin spread across Violeta's rose petal lips, her dark curls bouncing about her dainty waist erratically as she snuggled up next to Izabela, the ruffles of her pastel pink Lolita dress tickling over Izabela's exposed, fair flesh.

"Oh wonderful, what is going on then?" Izabela muttered as she slammed the lid of the piano shut over the keys before folding her arms over her chest and trying to shift away from Violeta with a frown on her lips.

"Well, you will be turning eighteen this august," Ciprian explained as if she were not aware of it. "Making you an adult and as per Varian tradition, you will have to find a mate to partner with during your first year of adulthood, in other words before you turn nineteen."

"I am aware of how our tradition works, father, most other vampiric families follow it, I'm sure the Drakovs do too," She sneered before adding a remark under her breath. "Although, Lucas is eighteen now and I doubt any woman will be up for mating with him."

"Yes, in fact, the Drakovs do follow our tradition," Aurora beamed happily. "And as Lucas is eighteen, he too will be searching for a mate as will his parents. Just as we will join you in searching for a mate."

"Actually, I do not need you to assist me," Izabela retorted dismissively, her mind wandering back to Claude, a small smile forming on her lips. "I do have someone in mind for my mate, of course I will wait until after I am eighteen, but I think I have found the first person I have felt such affection for."

"We thought that may have been the case." Aurora mused.

"You have just been so high in spirits and eager to go out and meet with other vampires," Violeta added with a squeal of utter exhilaration, clearly unable to contain her excitement. "I told mother and father months ago that it was obvious that you were really happy with being here and maybe even in love."

"Is that so?" Izabela growled, embarrassed that she had displayed such horrific nature.

"Do not be ashamed, sweetheart, it is a perfectly natural thing," Her mother stated gently, taking hold of her husband's hand and glancing up at him tenderly. "Luckily for us, our parents had arranged our partnership and through that we had found our soul mates."

"What may I ask is the point here? I am aware of what I have to do during the next year and I will not fail tradition," She groaned with irritation. "So can I just leave?"

"Not yet, Izabela, you need to let them finish," Violeta demanded, slipping her thin arms around her sister's waist and pulling her into a tight embrace. "Come on; tell her what is going on."

"Very well then," Ciprian cleared his throat, smoothing out his Victorian suit before continuing. "As we have told you, the Drakovs have always been quite taken with you, as we have been with Lucas. After seeing how well things have worked out for your mother and I as well as all this time you have spent in Lucas' company, we decided we had to meet with Rexander and Irma and we have come to an arrangement,"

Izabela felt a pit form in her stomach at her father's words, before feeling her body paralyse with shock as he continued.

"On your eighteenth birthday, your mother and I have arranged for you and Lucas to be mated."


End file.
